Author’s Note: I wrote this from
when I was 12 – 14 or so. I posted it because, well, I was asked to. While I still
am proud that I wrote this in middle school, I now look on it… and don’t care
for it. So, while I always appreciate criticism on my newer projects, this one?
If you feel the need to tell me you liked it, cool, but I have retired it as a
current project for a reason. It remains my first attempt though, and I guess
maybe that does give it a rightful place here on the webpage. So… good luck…
and don’t say I didn’t warn you…
1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 7. 8. 9. 10. 11. 12. 13. 14. 15. 16. 17. 18. 19. 20. 21. 22. 23. 24. 25. 26. 27. 28.
Church bells tolling endlessly. Calling mourners.
Banishing beings that are evil. Hell’s Bells pealing away to repel dark forces,
but I’m already inside. Arches rising high, reaching to God, some might say.
Let me ask those of whom I speak, is there even a God to reach to?
I lose my
point, my direction. It’s so easy to do here. The people trudge in, faces ashen
save for ruddy noses. Weeping endlessly, sniveling it seems. Yet there are the
hidden moments where I find the tears beautiful, musical.
Twisted?
I’d like to think so.
The
flowers are too many in number. Not to mention, they’re magnolias. Why do we
have magnolias? There should be roses… lots and lots of blood red roses. That’s
how… well, that’s just how it should be. Instead, we have magnolias; thick,
waxy magnolias. With that cloying sweet stench falling away from the altar.
Damned
people. Why don’t you smell that! My God, I’m going to be sick if you
don’t get rid of those damned things...
Losing my
focus again… so hard to stay focused these days. Music distracts me… look at
that darling girl dressed all in black, just like her mother. She’s begun to
sing and I can’t help but sway. These glass doors aren’t all too great, all too
comfortable to lean against anyway. I want to sway and prance about…
Back to
my point… I know I have a point but it’s so hard to concentrate with that
singing! And the bells… tolling endlessly, even though these characters filling
the pews don’t even know why they ring. To ward away the evil! To keep the
Little People from the dead! Do you not see that? Or has Christianity blinded
you so much that you can no longer read a history text?
Ah well…
I mean to
pose a question to you now: Have you ever been in love? I mean honestly, not
just that petty bullshit so many teenagers pledge to get laid. I mean that love
that blinds you, the love that let’s you sail along without a care and that
knowing of nothing more than that love. Have you even just gone cruising at the
high altitudes and not bothered to look down? Just trusted in the Wily E.
Coyote principle that as long as you don’t grasp the fact that there’s nothing
but air beneath you, you will never fall?
I’m here
to tell you I’ve been there, done that. Standing here in the back of this
weeping church, I’m telling you I know what that’s like.
I’m also
here to tell you I looked down.
Teen-pop
stars, Isaac, Zac, and Taylor Hanson appeared on July 4th
at the Hammerstein Ballroom to mingle with their peers. Having already put on
one less-than-stellar performance the previous months, Taylor seemed rather
withdrawn when questioned. Isaac, ever the older brother, only offered the
mumbled, “Everyone has their off nights. We’re just getting our fair share.”
The
accompanying photo showed melancholy faces bathed in sweat.
“Off
night, Tay? More like off life,” I muttered, but carefully clipped out the thin
wisp of paper anyway. With fingers singed by memories burning hot, I set the
paper into an open scrapbook. Then turned out the light, plunging my world into
the metaphorical darkness that was Taylor’s reality.
“This glassy surface,
Don’t wander through
this glassy surface,
Expecting to find more
than me,
For what am I without
a purpose,
But a lone mirage to
see…”
Door slamming loudly behind me with a metallic ring of certain
finality as abrupt and resounding as a gunshot, I walked out in the biting
wind. Now there was something I would welcome in that moment. A nice shot,
quick so I would never feel it, and sweet silence. It was a graceful and unique
reverie only for the brave, the tormented But instead I supposed I would have
to settle for a cancer-causing cigarette.
A stride of confidence marked my walk, as they liked to say in
all the magazines. I’ve got a stride of assurance that few other teenagers have
these days. I’ve got a lot of things that the average teenager today doesn’t
have. My level of stress tops the list. My daily intake of the cliché sex,
drugs, and rock’n’roll takes a close second.
I sighed, whipping out my cigarette and lighting it defiantly. I
didn’t care anymore. So what if the putrid fumes ruined my “angelic” voice? I’d
been grateful for it all my life, but now I wondered if the cancerous habit was
a mindless technique to ruin it all.
All around me, the city was bustling, even though dawn still
loomed over the horizon. So was New York City, never sleeping. And here I was,
smack-dab in the middle of it all, having slept when the city did: not for one
solitary moment in the night. Instead I’d wandered until I’d thought to sneak
away to my favorite hideaway.
I was never quite sure what drew me to the roofs of the hotels,
but it wasn’t ever very long before I found myself perilously perched on some
ledge or another, legs swinging out over dozens of stories. Wasn’t long before
I was in solitude, looking out over the masses that I wasn’t a part of. Nope,
not the masses. I was one of the “beautiful people” that probably about half of
those masses would love to get their hands on.
The cement was hard and cold as I let my fingers trail over it,
long piano fingers callused from years of playing piano, guitar, drums… name
it, I can probably play it. And if I can’t, give me twenty-four hours.
I jumped up on the narrow ledge suddenly, a feral grin spreading
over my doll’s lips as I almost lost my balance. It’s a long way down, I
thought with an undoubtedly mad gleam in my eye. I’d even have time to think
about it.
But it wasn’t what I wanted. I just liked to chance things, to
play with fate, so to speak, pretend that I had control over something. Standing
on a foot-wide ledge of one of New York’s most exclusive hotels somehow just
intrigued me. I tapped my cigarette ashes, watching as they floated off into
the wind and disappeared into the skyscrapers. Sat down quickly and just as
suddenly as I had jumped up, and pondered the city some more.
Millions here, I thought, a certain degree of awe filtering into
my thoughts. Millions upon millions of people. One of the largest cities in the
world. And at least half, if not more, know my name. And at least another half
of those are into my band and shell out the cash to pay my hedonistic salary.
And another half of those would give anything to meet me. Then there was me,
uncaring that their names never flashed through my mind. Not knowing who they
were and not really giving a damn.
Maybe I had become a bit of a brat lately, not caring about the
oh-so-friendly citizens of New York City, or any of the other anonymous cities
this promo-tour had blurred together. Not caring about the fans while I sat on
an overstuffed couch that cost more than all the furniture in my room back
home. Oh sure, I cared about the fans while I was on camera. I had to. I had to
be bubbly and happy, flirty even. I was a Goddamned pop-star; it was expected.
Why couldn’t we have waited another few years and escaped that
dreaded teeny-bopper fan base? I thought wearily, dragging deeply on my
cigarette. Frowned lightly as the ash fell onto my lap before quickly brushing
it away. We should have never gone down to that convention. Should’ve listened
to the first thirteen record companies that smacked us with a big, fat “NO!”
I sighed, watching as I exhaled and the smoke tumbled out over
the velvety sky. The stars were hidden behind a blanket of light-pollution and
smog, making me yearn for my backyard and the clear skies of my home. Found
myself frowning once again as I recalled the last time I had been in my
backyard before embarking on the latest stint of whirl-wind days…
There we sat, legs swinging idly over the smooth water. Peepers
chirping away quietly in the darkness that we couldn’t see, just merrily
singing away their own little tunes. Water lapping over the lip of the pool,
the easy pattern disturbed every few moments by the swish of our bared legs.
I was talking in a soft voice, my accent that had once been
prominent faded from worldly travels, messy blond hair perpetually dangling
into eyes that saw the world with an odd fire and zest I knew my best friend
would never possess. I’d told her before, I’d told the magazines… told them
exactly what I supposed they wanted to hear, yet didn’t care. Because unlike so
many of the other tragic pop clichés currently taking the stage across the
country, I meant it.
(I want to do it as long as I can. 'Til
I can't do it anymore. 'Til my hands can't physically
do it. No matter what, even if everything crashes and burns, at least I enjoyed
myself and had a passion for my work.)
But even though I was most definitely an unusually zealous
teenager, I just wasn’t at ease with myself. I just kept running my slender
fingers through tangled blond locks, the eyes that had so often been described
as ocean waters undoubtedly turbulent.
“Kira, I just… I’ve just become like
the CD’s! Put me in, take what you want, then throw me down uselessly until you
want me again. I’m just some useless object to be purchased!” I kicked at the
water suddenly, splashing water over my pale legs, long gone from the
brilliance of the sun. “They just go along on their own little ways until
they’re ready for me again. But I can never walk away from them.”
She was silent as I continued to release all of my troubled
thoughts. Sat there with one arm around my narrow shoulders, a friend of my
childhood. Probably used to this by now, the hours upon hours I spent delving
into what she called ‘my tortured soul’.
She told me a lot about myself, come to think of it. She told me
I’d always shown such a deep passion for my work. Now she said that I had this
“tortured soul” because I was questioning it, questioning if all my passion had
been in vain. Was I not just some idle object of desire for thousands of
teenyboppers? What had happened to the guy I’d once been? What about the quiet
boy from Tulsa, the one his friends all knew would be something someday if only
he wasn’t so shy, the one with the cherubic voice? Well, yeah, I still had a
beautiful voice and I’d become bold. I’d made something of myself, alright.
That angel’s fallen, I thought wryly as I drew sharply on my
cigarette, once more flicking the ashes abruptly. Eyes roaming out over the
city that lay below me, tracking all the lights that glowed from the numerous
parkways and freeways and boulevards. Thought back to that night some more, of
one of my only friends to have stood by me through it all…
“I just don’t know if I can take much more,” I confessed
suddenly, grabbing her shoulders and shaking her. “They won’t even let me
button my own shirts anymore! A seventeen-year-old can button his own fucking
shirt!”
She only sighed, brushing my hands away. Got that faraway look
in her eye that meant she was thinking about when we were younger again.
Thinking of the little boy’s voice that could still carry a tune better than
any of her other friends.
“Why doesn’t anybody understand me, Kira?
I just want to sing! I just want to get up there and sing. This is all I’ve got
anymore. My music. I need it to survive and it’s killing me.” I had stood and
was gazing down into Tulsa. She smiled, probably thinking of the same strange
irony that occurred to me every time I looked down from my yard to the city.
Here I was, on the outskirts of Tulsa, where there was nothing more than fields
and trees, utterly alone, save for the peepers. But I just stood there and
gazed down at the brilliantly lit up city, to all the people that knew my name,
and smoked my cigarette right down to the filter.
Then I merely turned and left without bothering to say
good-night. Kira knew me. She knew I never said
good-night. So she sat outside, pondering something. She just had that
pondering look about her, that curious gaze that wandered out over my yard.
Thinking about me.
But she came inside within a few minutes and found me as she had
so many times before: Face pushed deep into the soft pillows my mother piled
high on the couch, tears streaming in miniature rivers down my cheeks. And like
so many times before, she let me cry into her shoulder and just listened.
I cry an awful lot, I thought with a sigh, crushing the filter
of my cigarette into the cement ledge. Then grinned sardonically. That was what
I had taken from my memory; I cry an awful lot. Wow, we’re perceptive.
But what else am I going to get out of it? I already know
everything that I can know about my mind. It’s my mind! I stretched out on an
impulse, laying my lanky frame flat on that narrow foot of safety over the
city. The witching hours were fading, the sunrise beginning to paint the
eastern sky. And here I was, international pop-star, precariously perched a
good fifty-something stories high, waiting for the stench of my cigarette to
erase itself. I folded my arms beneath my head, silky hair caressing my
fingertips. Lay back and thought about the past day. Thought about the passing
night’s concert and of all the screams that never seemed to leave me anymore.
There I had been, bounding over the stage. Mike in hand,
harmonica dangling in the other. Getting ready for that incredibly hard song…
got to play the harmonica and keyboards at the same time. How was that for
impossibly difficult?
Hair hanging in my eyes in sweaty strands made my vision blur
and baby-blues sting horribly. The earplugs doing little to drown out the
enormous decibels of sound the crowd radiated. After all, Guinness does list my
band under ‘loudest crowd for a concert’.
If I ever lose my hearing, it wouldn’t be from the equipment;
it’d be from the fans that claimed to love me. Yeah, lots of love. That’s why
they can’t shut up and just listen to the songs, why they throw themselves
on-stage so the performance is tarnished… that’s why they tear up my mother’s
gardens and destroyed our lawn for the sake of having a piece of grass I might
have spit on. How that’s for a magnificent show of affection?
What would they do if I toppled over right now? I thought with a
twisted grin at my perverse thoughts. I let my hands trail over the edge, my
balance coming and going like the tide. Here it is, there it goes, oh look,
it’s back again.
The metallic bang sounded again, startling me. Oops, I almost
fell over. “Taylor Hanson, what the hell do you think you are doing!”
shrieked my younger brother. He walked severely, legs smashing down to the
asphalt of the roof. Hauled me to my feet and glared at my maddening grin.
Spurned by a sudden shock of impulse, I leaned over, grabbed his
shoulders, kissed his cheek and sauntered back into the building. Now I would
prepare myself for another day of nameless faces in the same nameless crowd
that now owned me.
Down the cement stairs I tromped, down into the hierarchy of the
hotel paid for by my privacy. The metallic clang of the door echoed above me as
Zac came barreling after me.
“Taylor!” he all but screeched, “What the hell is your problem today?” His hand
clamped down on my wrist, but only for a moment before I shook him off. Flying
high or not, I was still stronger.
“Dear, Zackie, Taylor’s fine. Don’t
worry about him,” I sang back, skipping down a flight of stairs. Last one here.
I think I’ll jump it.
My feet connected with the cement hard. Knees absorbing the
shock as it jostled my body about before I flung open the door to the hotel proper.
Down the carpeted hall and into our room, the door left conveniently ajar. Into
my own bedroom of the suite, a product of a perfect brat fit. Then I merely lay
back on the mattress and passed out. The sweet bliss of sleep was finally mine.
* * *
I was awake… and that was rare. But here was something even more
rare: I was awake and sober. And, I wasn’t hung over. Today was going to
be just peachy.
“I want a drink,” I mumbled to myself as I drug my lazy ass out
of bed towards the shower. That’s not true, Taylor. You don’t want a drink.
You’re sick of that shit, I reminded myself wearily, reaching for the hot
water. Then paused and twisted the knob back to the ice water that would serve
to wake me up.
I gasped lightly as I stepped under the water, but quickly felt
my body adjust. I had been had by many a frigid shower and this certainly
wouldn’t be the last. Of course, some icy showers were endured for various
reasons that didn’t include the need to wake myself up.
I’ve got the morning off, I realized as I stepped down to the
cool tiles. No work! Maybe I’ll go downstairs and find some hot girl and… well,
there was lots of early morning fun to be had with an exceedingly attractive
portion of the female population.
But then again, do I really want to go down there? Do I really
want to fuck some random girl for a second of fulfillment that will end in
hours of emptiness?
No.
But did I want to sit in this hotel room and get bitched at by
my parents and brothers and everyone else that had a problem with my roof-top
adventure?
No.
So down the rabbit hole I tumbled, down into Wonderland. Plush
carpeting my boots sunk deep into, chandeliers reflecting the wealth shown off
by the lobby of the rich and famous. “Coffee,” I muttered to myself, checking
my back pocket for my wallet. Yes, there it was, the long chain dangling at my
hip. It swished quietly as I walked.
Coffee shops had always been a favorite stomping ground of mine.
All the pretty, intellectual types hung out there. Consumed with my early-morning
addiction just as much as I, they sat at the small tables, legs crossed
oh-so-modestly. But I knew how to get them; I knew just what to say.
I spotted today’s pick the second I walked in. Tall, with
luxurious legs that ran for a mile, she laughed merrily with another girl,
similar in looks. A simple black notebook sat before her, a pen precariously
balanced on the edge of the table. Yet the girl with her was obviously younger,
so I zeroed in on the first.
Her laughter floated over to me as I stood at the register,
ordering up my cup of espresso. Thankfully, after a week of these meetings, the
girl behind the counter only smiled and wished me a good day.
I chose a table in the corner. But it wasn’t for the seclusion
so many assumed I chose it for; it was for the vantage point it offered me.
Especially the vantage point it gave for today’s observations. My enchantress
was sitting almost directly across from me.
Long raven’s hair, curls spun tight, hung into her eyes in
delicate tendrils as she leaned forward to sip at her cappuccino. Obviously a
girl of wealth, the sat up straight and held herself with what some might even
refer to as arrogance.
I didn’t find her arrogant. I found her stunningly beautiful and
spell-binding.
Her green eyes hit me as she looked up. Burning with the fire of
ancient emeralds, she glanced in my direction for a moment. Eyes widening, she
whispered something furtively to the girl with her. Sisters, going on
appearance alone. There is was, lurking deep in her eyes just like it had in so
many before her: recognition.
While she was caught up in the whirlwind of her realization, I
lounged back in my seat, watching her over the rim of the cheap Styrofoam. Took
in her knee-length black skirt with the glittered butterflies winging over the
hem, her simple shirt. A black tank-top, spaghetti straps of lace showing off
delicate collarbones and narrow shoulders bathed in her hair. It looked like
spun silk and I longed to run my fingers through it. I wanted to know if it
felt as soft as it looked.
It dawned on me quite suddenly: maybe I should do things the
right way with her. Instead of just trying to get in her pants, maybe I should
talk to her. Just talk. My goal had been to get out the hotel room… it didn’t
mean I had to go running into another.
But the idea was foreign to me, making me cringe. I hadn’t done
that in years. I was seventeen and the last time I had “dated” somebody had
been over three years ago. Since then, it had been one nameless beauty after
another. And some of them weren’t even that beautiful.
Coming back into the present time, I was startled to find her
standing before me. The girl I took to be her sister was watching with a
curious half-grin from their table. Slightly dismayed to have been caught
off-guard, I offered her a smile. “Hey.”
“Hi… look, I’m not going to harass you. I just wanted to tell
you I think you’ve got an amazing voice. You and your brothers are extremely
talented. You can rock with the best of them.” She stopped, biting her glossed
lip. Perhaps wondering if I was going to say anything to her or if I was just
going to sit there, an inanimate object of desire.
“I don’t know about that, but thank-you.” I smiled warmly at
her, extending my hand to the seat that currently held my feet. I dropped them
down to the ground. “You can sit down if you want. I’ve got nothing to do right
now.”
“You’ve got nothing to do? Taylor Hanson has nothing to
do in New York City?” Tiny peals of laughter erupted from her throat, slight
giggles as she looked over at me. She extended one delicate, pale hand. “I’m Morgana, by the way.”
I took her hand, marveling at the frigidness, yet utter
smoothness, of her skin. It was like
she’d just stepped in from a Christmas caroling party. But that wasn’t
possible, because it was the first week of July in New York. “You’re hand’s
cold,” I told her as she withdrew her hand to her cup of coffee. I noticed her
sister had disappeared without a trace.
“They always are.”
“Here, hold ‘em out.” She gave me a
quizzical glance but did as I asked. I forced myself to forget that this was a
technique I had used over and over on so many girls to get them to think I was
charming. I was not trying to get her into bed. Not yet anyway…
I took her hands, clasping them together with mine for a moment.
Knowing full well that my hands were always burning, I held tight for a moment,
then leaned over and kissed each of her hands in turn. Then I released them,
leaning back in my chair.
“Wow,” she murmured, taking her hands back. “They’re not cold
anymore.”
I offered her a mysterious smile before reaching for my espresso
and indulging in another sip of the bitterness I’d come to crave.
“Silky smooth, lips as sweet as candy,
Baby, tight blue jeans, skin that shows in patches,
Strong inside, but you’d never know it,
Good little girls, they never show it,
And you open your mouth to speak,
Could you be a little weak?
“Hurt that’s not supposed to show,
And tears that fall when no one knows,
And you’re trying hard to be your best,
Could you be a little less?”
My
morning had certainly turned out to be an interesting one.
Having
woken up only a mere hour ago, I had been exhausted as I stumbled down into the
coffee shop. Wanting nothing more than my sweet cappuccino and my sister’s
ever-interesting humor to wake me up, I’d plopped down into one of the metal
chairs.
He’d
come in maybe ten minutes later, dressed in his trademark fitted pants and
tank-top. The tank-top was deliciously tight, showing off a build that many had
to be envious of, whether they’d admit it or not.
Now,
sitting before me, Taylor Hanson sighed, leaning back in his chair, lounging.
It was reminiscent of a younger John Lennon, all sprawled across the furniture.
He didn’t just sit in it; he commanded his presence to become part of it.
Looking over at me with soft eyes, eyes that spoke to me in a way his voice
never did, he repeated his question a second time for my day-dreamer’s mind.
“Your
name? Morgana? It’s kind of unusual.”
I
smiled delicately, watching as my hair blended perfectly with the ebony of my
hair. “Do you know the ledged of King Arthur? Morgana
le Fay?”
He
nodded, looking back over at me. “I remember the name. She was King Arthur’s
half-sister, right?”
“Yep.
But there was more to her. She was a great faery
queen, skilled in necromancy and shape-shifting. Through the night, she would
sore free on raven’s wings, setting out to capture your dreams and work her
magic. The magic itself was gleamed from Merlin. It is said that it is she who
initiates us into mystic realms of creative imagination, where all that is not
manifest begins the journey into light and form.” I paused, slightly
embarrassed. My general obsession with the world of Faery
and its occupants was not very often all too entertaining for my company.
“She’s
also said to be mistress of sexuality,” he tossed back casually, eyes of lapis
lazuli holding an intriguing stare. I held his gaze for only a moment before
dropping my eyes, cheeks beginning to flame. Though my mind was racing; Taylor
Hanson, Mr. Goody-Two-Shoes himself was talking to me about sexuality so
blatantly?
He
quickly reversed the subject, returning to our discussion of the beguiling
attitude the elder generations had taken towards age and the knowledge one
might contain at a certain point in the chronicle of life.
“You
know, you can’t even begin to imagine how much shit I’ve gotten for the band.
You said we’ve got some good lyrics, but nobody listens to us. Really listens.
We’re too young, they say. God, you could never understand,” he told me,
placing the Styrofoam cup back onto the table, but then picking it back up. I’d
already noticed that; he didn’t like to let the coffee cup leave his hands for
very long.
“You’d
be surprised. I know a hell of a lot more than you think I do,” I said softly
after a moment’s pause, my eyes darting back to the notebook that sat before
me, the folders stuffed full with notes and the pages filled with writing. The
written word was what I had dedicated my life to. And I knew what it was to be
judged for being too young. I knew all too well. The bracelets adoring either
of my wrists clinked together quietly as I let my fingers fall onto the
notebook again.
They
were still warm.
“How
could you?” Taylor’s voice was almost bitter as he looked back at me, eyes
scornful and caustic. “You don’t know what it’s like to be told that all the
emotion you pour into a piece of paper, later into a song, is thrown back as
immature merely because you’re only thirteen, you’re only fourteen, you’re only
seventeen!”
“I
don’t know! Why do you assume I don’t know? You never bothered to find out why
I’m in New York. You want to know why I’m here? I’m here, seventeen-years-old
and going into my senior year of high-school, for a writing conference that
includes journalists from the New York Times, from the Los Angeles
Times, from all over the world. I’ve been sitting in the same room as
people who’ve been writing since they were my age and are now in their forties,
fifties. I’ve been rejected for countless competitions, not even allowed to
participate in countless others, because I’m too young! And then I read what
won, and, not to be modest or anything, I can do better than what’s been
written in my first draft!” My eyes were steaming as I glared back at him, my
fury acting as a catalyst to my words, spilling them forward at a speed I
didn’t comprehend. I have no idea how he understood what I was saying. “I couldn’t have any idea, could I?”
Taylor
was silent as he looked back at me, watched me as I spoke with my eyes
flashing. “You have so much passion for this, don’t you?” he finally asked, his
voice a child-like whisper of amazement as his eyes met mine again.
The
fury slowly faded away. Held deep in his azure eyes was understand and
compassion. “Yes,” I finally said softly, sighing. “Sorry for-“
“No,
don’t apologize,” Taylor interrupted, raising one finger to my lips to stop me
from talking. “I should apologize. I shouldn’t have said that. I don’t know
you.”
I
smiled as he removed his finger from my lips, sitting back again into his seat
and gazing back at me with that odd look I had been on the receiving end of so
often.
“I’ve
never met a girl who understood what it’s like to be looked at like that. Or a
girl with a passion for something like I have for music. Besides afternoons at
the mall and sunbathing, anyway.” Taylor smiled, his eyes lighting up with the
laughter that spilled from my lips as I looked back at him, the last sarcastic
twist of his words amusing.
“I’ve
only known a few people like me, who care about something so much it’s their
life. My best friend back home writes like I do. She couldn’t come this weekend
because she couldn’t afford it,” I told him softly, my words flowing easily as
I held Taylor’s steady gaze in my forested eyes. “You’re like that, aren’t
you?” It wasn’t really a question, more of a statement, something I was sure of
as I looked back at him.
He
smiled, reaching out and pushing the strand of hair that had fallen in front of
my eyes back behind my ears. I knew it wouldn’t stay; curls are a stubborn
thing. But his warm fingers felt so nice against my cheek that I didn’t bother
to inform him. “You understand so
perfectly.”
I
was silent as I watched him slide his fingers slightly against my cheek before
he sat back again, a soft grin having captured his lips as they curled so delicately.
“Did you ever try and explain to some one who just didn’t get it? And they
looked back at you like you were nuts?”
“Yeah,
a million times. I tried to tell my best friend back home about it. I’ve always
tried to explain. And he’s like, ‘Yeah, I got ya,’
but he just doesn’t get it. I can tell by the way he looks at me,” Taylor
replied, shaking his head from side to side. The blond locks I had always
admired from afar reached down into his eyes, curling their tiny little fingers
just-so to obstruct his vision.
“I
tried to explain it once to someone I thought would understand. He’s an artist,
a really amazing one. Draws in pen with the cockiness that he’ll never mess us.
I don’t think he understood and I just shut after a while, figuring I was babbling.
He laughed at me,” I said softly, my eyes hurt and a small frown tugging at my
lips. “But he’s hurt me so many times like that I just don’t even care
anymore.”
“How
good of a friend is he if he keeps hurting you?” Taylor asked lightly, the grin
fading from his lips.
“He’s
not a friend anymore,” I muttered back, blinking quickly to rid myself of the
tears causing my eyes to sting so acutely now. Then I smiled, obviously a
forced smile, shaking my head. “But it’s not important.”
“If
you say so,” he replied uneasily after a moment of silence. I sighed, looking
down at my watch before gathering my notebook to my chest.
“I
hate to say this, but that writing conference I was telling you about? My first
seminar of the day starts in ten minutes.” I rose to go, throwing my now-empty
cup into the near-by trash. He caught my wrist, rising as well.
“You
want me to walk with you? I don’t mind.” He shoved his hands down into his
pockets and shot me a charming smile I couldn’t refuse.
“Of
course I don’t mind.” I returned his amiable grin as we walked on. Rarely in
New York City, I was delighted merely to walk around the hotel, my knee-high
boots clicking against the beautiful marbles. All the glitter covering my
outfit sparkled in the soft lighting provided from hundreds of crystal
chandeliers and it was definitely a good day.
“Alright,”
I said. Now we stood outside the entrance to the ballroom where thousands of
folding chairs were currently set out. People in precisely-cut business suits
milled about, hugging their coffee to them protectively. Got to love those
writers; them and their damned coffee. But I was subject to it all the same. It
didn’t matter that I hadn’t yet put in my decades behind the keys or under the
glare of the red pen. “This is it.”
“What
time do you get out?” he asked me, one hand brushing my hair behind my ear. His
fingertips brushed against my earrings and then the side of my neck, making a
faint blush rise in my pallid cheeks.
“Um,
around three.”
“The
only thing I’ve got today is scheduled to wrap around two-thirty, which means I
should be done by three-thirty.” I shared in his wry laughter, hugging my
notebook to my chest and absently toying with the cross around my neck.
“Taylor,
are you asking me out?” I suddenly threw back at him with a coy grin. I watched
him for a moment, taking in the way he watched me with his head cocked at a
slight angle.
“Can
I take that as a yes?” he retorted, a matching tease in his voice. One hand
dropped into his back pocket, the other leaned against the wall. Once again, he
was the rock-star, making his surroundings mold around him.
“Sure.
Any place you want to go?”
“Surprise
me,” he replied, turning to go. “I’ll meet you back here at three-thirty.” And
then he was gone in a wave of charming good looks and a halo of golden locks. And
I stood stunned, the rock-star sway of his hips as I watched him leave
enticing, the rock-star that had just asked me to take him out on the town.
* * *
I
had decided to take him tromping through the theatre district. I knew New York
fairly well, all the back alleys and little side-streets. So I led him around,
sneaking through back doors to catches glimpses of the fabled ‘Cats’ or ‘Les Miserables’ before darting back into the street. It
wouldn’t do at all for us to be caught.
“That
was great.” He shot me a bright grin as we ascended back through the hotel,
rising high into the beast. Floor twenty-three was where I’d been residing the
last two nights and would be for the next week. “I’ve never had that much fun
here before.”
“I’ve
done it a bunch of times. Never gotten caught either.” I shot him a mischievous
grin. “But this is New York. It’s hard to get caught here. It’s the East
Coast’s version of Sin City… NYC and
Miami.”
“I’d
say,” he mumbled and there was something in his eyes for a brief moment. A
flicker of darkness, but then it was gone. I dismissed it as the lights and
pulled my key out.
“Here,
come in for a minute. Nic’s probably asleep already,”
I explained in reference to my sister, sliding the electronic key through the
slot. Taylor only nodded, silently following me into the room. “Sorry, it’s trashed so badly.” I laughed out
of nervousness as I threw my purse onto the table sitting just inside the small
kitchenette setup before collapsing back onto the overstuffed couch. As
predicted, Nicole was nowhere in sight, but the one door that was inside the
room was closed.
As far as trashed, it was perhaps a mild description
of the room. Clothes and shoes were scattered across the living room and
kitchen areas, a laptop computer opened up on the kitchen table, books
scattered across the floor. Makeup littered one of the kitchen counters, empty
soda cans and water bottles haphazardly scattered elsewhere. The only neat
thing was a pair of roller blades carefully propped up against a wall.
“It’s
alright,” Taylor replied, sitting down beside me on the couch as I slipped off
the what-appeared-to-be painful, though they were actually comfortable, boots
and threw them across the room. “My room is trashed too. Between the three of
us, we do a pretty decent job of making a mess,” Taylor assured me, looking
over at me as he settled in the corner of the couch. He easily folded his legs
in front of him, hands resting in his lap.
“Still.”
I grinned as I looked at him, then tore off a piece of paper from the sheets
that were scattered across the floor in front of me, grabbing a pen. “Here’s my
cell-phone number. Give me a call tomorrow. I’ve got my car so we can go out of
the city if you want,” I offered as I scrawled the numbers down and handed over
the scrap of paper.
“Alright,” he replied, taking the
slip without looking at it and shoving it into his pocket, his eyes still
locked on me. “You’re really unique, ya know that? I
said it before, but I think it’s even truer now. I’ve never had a girl make
this kind of impression on me before. You’re so mysterious, but I want to sit
here and figure out all of the mysteries.” Taylor stopped suddenly, his face
beginning to heat up and flame as he laughed and looked down. “I’m sorry. I should
shut up now,” he muttered, looking up with an embarrassed grin. The fabled
baby-blues danced merrily.
“It’s
ok. Thank you for the undeserved compliments.” I stood, walking away after he
rose and began to follow me to the door. Taylor stopped just before the door,
turning instead to face me instead of leaving.
“Morgana, you’re amazing. You showed me a great time tonight
and I hope I can do the same for you some time.” Taylor spoke softly, slowly,
one hand reaching up to brush his thumb gently against my cheek. He leaned
forward and kissed my cheek softly, then pulled back. “Good-night.”
“Taylor,
wait a sec,” I called after him, grabbing his hand as he dropped his fingers
from my cheek. “I just want to tell you... well… I’ve got some issues. I’m not
perfect so if that’s what you want, I suggest you leave now and find some else
to occupy your time.”
“I
know. I believe all artists have had ‘issues’ at some point or another. It
helps to shape them, teaches them where to draw all those emotions from,”
Taylor said, squeezing my fingers tightly for a moment as he reached with the
other for the door. “I’ve got issues too.”
I
was silent as he held my hands, the chill I had felt moments ago erased. It was
an interesting technique he used, one I was curious to know the workings of.
But I didn’t really care either way. His warmth was in his presence.
“Thank
you for understanding me so easily,” Taylor finally whispered, raising his
fingers to brush them once more against my cheek. “Good-night, Morgana.”
“Good-night
Taylor,” I said softly, closing the door behind him as he left, a small grin on
my face as I walked away from the door. For once, I didn’t have to bury my
hands in the blankets as I slipped into a dream world.
“The things you see, the way
you see them,
Will
never be seen again,
Let’s
go through life living on luck,
Betting
ten-thousand to ten,
Mistakes
I’ve made in this life, I can’t say why or when,
But
the thing that’s strange is you only live once,
I’ll
never look back again…”
I left Morgana’s room with thoughts of
her. Thoughts of her beauty, thoughts of how much she understood, thoughts of
how hard, and how fast, I was falling for her. It was then that I realized that
it was well past three in the morning and I did, yes in fact, have parents that
wanted to know where I was. Parents that liked too check up on me lately a
little too often for my liking.
“Oh shit,” I muttered
under my breath as I hurried back to my room, pulling the key out of the back
pocket of my black dress pants. They were rather fitted, but the fabric gave
easily as I dug my hand into the pocket to get the credit card-look-alike key.
“Please have covered for me guys,” I whispered to myself as I let myself into
the room I shared with my brothers, my parents’ room across the hall with our
younger siblings.
I entered quietly, slipping the door shut and walking silently
across the thick carpeting. Sitting at the table that came with our posh suite
were my two brothers, a Monopoly game spread out before them. And it appeared,
judging from the pile of money before Zac and the lack thereof before Isaac, I
guessed our younger brother was beating him once again.
“So, Taylor, where the hell were you?” Zac asked
immediately, not even looking up from the game as he rolled the dice
effortlessly and moved his piece, the cannon, forward another few spaces.
“Shit, jail again!”
“Serves you right,” Isaac laughed as he watched our brother
fling the piece down in dismay in the jail spot. Then he looked at me, eyes
turning faintly cold. “So? We had a hell of a time convincing Mom you were in
the shower. Especially without the water running.”
“Thanks guys. You have no idea how grateful I am.” I sighed as I
sank down into one of the chairs, watching in amusement as Isaac tried to add
an extra space to his roll to avoid landing on another of Zac’s properties.
Even if they were going to give me the cold-shoulder, it was another thing I
was going to try and fix. I’d started fixing one thing; it was time I started
on another.
“Oh, no you don’t! Back, Ike,” Zac yelled suddenly as his eyes
raced quickly to recount the spaces that Isaac had moved. “And that would be
another five hundred fifty.”
“Bite me. Taylor, you say that every time you disappear when
we’re in New York. Where’d you go this time? Kody’s
again?” Isaac asked wearily as he threw the multi-colored slips of paper at a
gloating Zac.
“No, I told you, I’m getting sick of that shit.” He shot me
disbelieving look. “No, Ike, I mean it. I met this girl downstairs this morning
and we went out,” I told them, leaning back in the chair and stretching. “God,
she was hot.”
“Big change in attitude, Taylor. You go to her room or
something?”
“No, actually. We went around New York all night, sneaking in
and out of the Broadway shows. Had a lot of fun.”
“Yeah, but Taylor, you fuck around,” Isaac retorted, rolling his
eyes at me as I pulled my shirt back into place after stretching.
“Things are going to be different with her,” I said softly,
thinking about her gentle smile and the way she understood me so well. And her words,
her hoarse whisper that she had issues.
“No, they’re not, Taylor. You know they’re not. You’re going to
use her the same way you use all the other girls,” Zac told me, his words
biting. “Don’t bother lying to us or yourself or especially her.”
“I’m serious. I don’t want to fuck her. I want to talk to her.
She understands me.”
“Taylor, she only talked to you for a couple of hours. She
doesn’t understand you. You only think she does because you’ve probably shot
yourself up on something truly bad this time. That’s why you’re not in her room
screwing her right now,” Isaac snapped back, rolling his eyes once again, the
Monopoly game now forgotten as both he and Zac picked me with apart with their
fine-pointed scalpels.
“But she does. She understands everything. She understands that
I love music more than anything in the world. She understands how it is to be
judged for being so young that people won’t even listen to what you’re saying.
She understands,” I said slowly, stretching again and yawning. I ignored his
comment about shooting up. “Whatever, you can believe whatever you want. I’m
going out with her tomorrow.” I rose and left, going to the bedroom where I
slept alone.
I woke up well after eleven, remembering Morgana’s
invitation to call when I wanted to go out. No time like the present. Besides,
I hadn’t been informed of any planned activities for the day and it was best to
get out before I could be.
“Shit,” I muttered under my breath as I dragged myself free from
the blankets. I stumbled out into the other rooms, reaching blindly for the
coffee I knew Isaac had already made. I gulped some of it down, black and
scalding as I liked it, then took the cup with me to find my brothers.
They were sprawled across the couch, watching TV. Some movie or
another, I wasn’t sure. Whatever it was, I was willing to bet money that Isaac
had billed it to one of his friends, because it sure as hell wasn’t something
that Mom would want to see on the bill.
“What the hell is this?” I asked as I watched the screen. Two girls
were making out in some dank room, wearing practically nothing. No scratch
that, nothing. Not that I would have had a problem with that by any means,
under normal circumstances.
“I dunno. Playboy channel had some
movie on. I called Jason and he agreed to pay for it if I sent him the money.
And presto, we have chicks making out.” Isaac grinned at me from the couch,
tearing his eyes away from the screen momentarily to grin at me. We had always
related well on the porn subject. “Wanna join us?”
“Nah, I’ve got to get ready to go with Morgana.
I don’t need to show up with this in my mind. I’m really going to try and do
things right with her,” I said as I
turned away from the screen.
“You don’t know what you’re missing!” Zac called as I started to
walk away. I grinned as I turned around, a retort ready on my lips.
“Oh, but I do Zac! I’ve seen it live!” I called back, grinning
widely to myself as I headed for the bathroom, trying to rid the images from my
mind so they wouldn’t be flashing across my eyes when I was sitting with Morgana.
“Fuck you!” he shouted back before I closed the door to the
bathroom and could no longer hear what he was saying.
I showered quickly, grinning to myself at the morning’s exchange
with my brothers’, the water scalding and turning my skin a faint pink. I
stepped down to the tile after a few more minutes, wrapping a towel around my
waist and wiping away the steam from the mirror so I could see.
I studied my features for a moment, taking in my appearance. My
hair was wet as it hung just at my shoulders, the strands clumped together and
a darker blond than its usual. I had a toned torso, a product of countless
sit-ups and various other physical tortures I’d endured to ensure I wasn’t a
scrawny chicken-legged freak. My arms were well-muscled, though that was more
from my constant beating on conga drums, Zac’s drum set, and the two keyboards
I played so often. Or from having to move all of the musical equipment, which
was heavy as hell. Yes, I know, there are people who get paid to do that. But
our parents think that we’re going to forget that we’re really not any better
than the average Joe because we stand onstage and get paid for it. Therefore,
we get to do a lot of the shit work too, so we don’t forget. I myself am quite
certain I will never forget.
I leaned closer to the mirror, studying my face. My eyes were a
deep blue, startling and able to be seen from across the room. I loved my eyes.
I had long thick eyelashes, though they were blond as my eyebrows and a few
shades darker than my hair. I had defined cheekbones, a gift from my mother,
and pale skin, also from my mother’s side of the family. I got my blue eyes
from her too.
My lips were a natural deep pink. They were rather thin, but
that was alright. I didn’t need to look like I had just been punched. I sighed
as I straightened again, taking out my shaving supplies. I didn’t really need to shave today, but I did it
anyway. It’s a guy thing, I supposed. Not too many girls itching to take out
the razor.
I finished shaving quickly, probably because there was really
nothing to shave, brushed my teeth and retreated back to my room to get
dressed. I put on a loose pair of jeans, the fabric hanging easily off my thin
frame. Then I grabbed a bright orange Puma T-shirt and pulled that over my head
before going back to the bathroom. I brushed out my still damp hair and then
shoved my feet into a pair of Vans before grabbing my sunglasses and Isaac’s
phone. I used it regardless of ownership. Or rather, the lack thereof.
“Hello?” Morgana asked softly, her
voice dimmed slightly. Maybe she was in one of her seminars. God, did my timing
suck.
“Hi, Morgana. Is your writing thing
over?” I asked, hoping I didn’t sound as guilty as I felt.
“Yeah.”
The relief rushed in and I smiled. “Cool. You said you wanted to
go out of the city?” I asked as I slid onto the counter, my head turned away
from the movie Isaac and Zac were still watching.
“We can. I’ve got my car. There’s a beach about an hour from
here. We could go rollerblading,” she offered, her voice now louder, the noise
having faded.
“Sure, sounds like a plan. I’ll meet you downstairs in five,
alright?”
“Ok, bye.”
“Bye.” I hung up the phone, looking around the room for the room
key I knew was around someplace. I found it, shoved it into my pocket and
headed for the door. Screw rollerblading, I just wanted to spend time with her.
“Hey, shit heads, I’m going out with Morgana.
If Mom asks, tell her you don’t know where I went. Unless it’s late tonight.
Then make something up,” I told them, reaching for the doorknob and throwing
the words over my shoulder as I opened the door.
“We know!” Zac shouted back right before I closed the door,
grinning to myself as I made my way down the hall. I met Morgana
as planned. Made up a brilliant story as to why I was lacking my roller blades:
I’d forgotten.
She drove through the city amazingly well for a
seventeen-year-old and was cleared from the dense traffic in minutes. It was
kind of amazing, in its highly illegal fashion.
I grinned as I ruffled through her CD collection. “So, you
listen to Hanson and then apparently there’s the rest of your music,” I
commented, laughing through my words as Korn glared
back at me, the little girl eternally gaping at a man’s shadow coming into
view.
“Shut up! I told you, I’m not a fucking teenybopper. And put on
your Goddamned seatbelt. I don’t need all the actual teenyboppers coming after
me because you get killed in an accident,” she snapped, slapping at my arm when
I only grinned innocently. She had already told me to put the seatbelt on five
times.
“Alright, alright. So let’s see…. you’ve got Korn,
Silverchair, No Doubt, Green Day, Live, Staind, Kittie, System of a Down,
old Madonna, new Madonna, Metallica, Alice in Chains,
Godsmack, Rage Against the Machine, Jewel and Bush.
Eclectic, aren’t we?” I asked as she glared at me, snatching away the CD’s. She
grabbed one of them before throwing the case into the backseat and popped it
into the player. A moment later, something loud spewed from the speakers.
“What is this?” I asked as she turned down the stereo so she
could hear me.
“Staind. They’re from Springfield,
Mass.”
“Oh. So where exactly are you from in Connecticut?”
“A little shit town with little shit people.”
“Well that’s descriptive,” I commented wryly, settling back into
the comfortable seat of her car, watching her from behind the deep coal of my
sunglasses.
“It’s true.”
I looked over at her, reaching one arm up and draping it across
her shoulder as nonchalantly as possible. It didn’t work.
“Taylor, please, don’t hang all over me,” she said quickly,
leaning forward as if my touch burned her. I removed my arm, sitting back
again. Tried to hide my miserable confusion.
“Alright, alright,” I said softly, looking over at her
curiously. What had caused such a strong reaction? “I’m sorry I forgot my
rollerblades.”
“It’s alright. It’s the blond hair,” she told me, grinning as I
glared back at her.
“I believe it is nothing more than a state of mind. Therefore,
you’re a blond.”
“Yeah, right. My hair is black as the fabled Halloween cat,” she
said, grinning even more as I looked back at her, throwing her hair over her
shoulder.
“And you’re just as enchanting as the hours that breed it,” I
said softly in response. I reached out to push the strand of hair that had fallen
into her eyes back behind her ear.
When we arrived at the beach, I leapt from the car, before we’d
even parked. “Jeez, how can you stand to sit in the car for so long?” I
demanded as I stretched, my hands going high above my head and my shirt lifting
up to expose a faint hint of my smiley-face boxer shorts and the bottom of my
stomach. I caught her gaze and smiled softly to myself, not saying anything as
her eyes quickly returned to my face.
“I go for long drives a lot by myself,” she said quickly as she
took a blanket from the backseat of her car and started for the sand. I
shrugged and took her hand, delighted that she let me hold her fingers instead
of pushing me away again.
When we got to the sand, I spread out the blanket with her and
settled back comfortably on the blue fuzz. “Morgana,
about last night... the issues? Did something happen?” I asked softly, taking
her hand again and entwining my fingers with hers.
“Taylor, it’s not important.”
“It is to me,” I said gently, looking at the eyes suddenly so
desperately avoiding mine. Somehow, there was something about her, the innocent
eyes, the pain in her voice as she spoke.
She looked back over at me, her eyes hurt, maudlin. They were
clouded as she obviously thought something over in her mind, considering. “I-I
was raped,” she whispered softly, her eyes fleeing from my vision as she looked
out to the water, blinking away sudden tears.
“Is that why you didn’t want me to touch you?” I asked finally,
my voice quiet as I spoke, afraid of her answer. Almost without thinking, I
scooted away from her.
“Yes.”
“Do you think I would hurt you?”
“I didn’t think Matt would hurt me.”
“Is he the guy who raped you?”
“Yeah,” she said softly, now looking at me, her eyes glazed over
with her tears, tears she refused to cry. “Taylor, you’re the first guy who has
touched me in months.”
“I’m sorry if I upset
you,” I quickly told her, sitting up and wrapping my arms around my legs, her
confession making me not want to touch her. I knew it hurt her. “God, I am so
sorry.”
“Taylor, you didn’t do anything. I need to realize that not
everyone is like him. I’m scared of everyone these days. I’m afraid of my
sister, I’m afraid of my best friend. I need to get past it. I tried to tell
you last night that I wasn’t worth getting involved with. I need time,
understanding, patience.” The tears dropped now, only falling faster as she
struggled to regain control over her emotions. I felt so bad now, as I watched
the tears she fought slide down her cheek. Once again, I didn’t know her,
didn’t know how she acted. She had said I didn’t know her and, God, had
she been right.
“I can give you that,” I said quietly, looking over at her,
raising one hand to gently brush away her tears. She looked at me, the tears
now flooding even more at my soft words. Moved closer, allowing herself to be
drawn in the tender hug I pulled her so gently into. The sobs ripped free as
she sat in my arms, her shoulders shaking in the hot sun of the beach as I held
her tight, kissed her forehead gently, rocked her as I pulled her onto my lap.
“Morgana, look, I care about you. I’m
not going to hurt you. We talked for hours last night and I feel as if I’ve
known you all my life. We’re both young, yeah, and maybe there are things we
don’t understand. But we understand words like few others and I think we both
understand what love is, in the same manner of thinking. I know I don’t love
you. I’m not saying that. But I am saying that I’d like the chance to,” I
whispered softly in her ear as the tears subsided, her breath growing even once
again even though she was still locked in my arms. God, the changes she had
already caused so quickly in me.
“Taylor, I’m not worth what you’d have to go through.”
“I think you are.”
“I don’t.”
“Can I do something? I promise not to hurt you, ok?” I asked
softly as she pulled her face away from my shoulder to look into my eyes. She
nodded after a moment, her eyes trusting as she looked back at me, her arms
still draped across my neck. I held her gently, leaning tentatively forward and pressed cautious lips
to her cheek, then to her lips, pulling her more tightly into my arms. She
slowly responded as I dropped soft kisses on her skin, mouth slowly opening in
response. I could taste the remnants of the mint she had been chewing on when
I’d met her earlier. “Was that ok?”
“Mmm-hmmm,” she replied quietly,
leaning against me, the sweet scent of her hair wavering to my nose as she
buried her face in my shoulder. “It was nice.”
“I won’t hurt you, alright? I promise.” I kissed the top of her
head gently once more, then slowly leaned back against the soft blue fuzz of
the blanket, happy that she curled up beside me. I was so determined in that
moment that things were going to be different with her. I would nurture her as
I was now, I would protect her from harm. She could trust me. Forever.
“Taylor, I know you won’t. I know I’m not going to get raped
again by every guy I see. But it’s just such a hard thing to go through. And he
was a good friend of mine. At least, I thought he was… REAL good friend he turned out to be.” The
words twisted bitterly as she spoke, lying on her side, the warm sun hot on my
face as I lay back.
“I swear I won’t do anything to you,” I promised again,
squeezing her fingers tightly, my other hand reaching up to brush her hair with
my fingers softly.
“I know.”
“They try her on for size, she fits nice, one size
fits all,
And they try her on for size, she fits nice, one
size fits all
Now her soul is dead, now her body’s raw
You can’t know her pain...”
We
got back to New York late, probably around eleven-thirty. I had relaxed a lot
since Taylor first kissed me, now that he knew from the beginning that I had
been raped. That was something that had been bothering me all morning; how
would he react when I told him?
But
everything was fine. I was sublimely happy. We had spent the entire afternoon
on the beach, staying until the sun had set. Then we went out for dinner at an
amazing great seafood place on the shore before returning to New York.
Taylor
had been so understanding, in every way, in every move he made. He was content,
so it seemed, to merely hold my hand, to have one arm on my waist. The simple
contact was seemingly better to him than spending the time at the beach making
out. Not that I didn’t kiss him again in the time we spent together. Like hell!
See,
people have this misconception about rape. I was still scared, yes, terrified
of it happening again. But I fought myself on it, fought that side of me that
insisted I was going to get hurt. I liked kissing Taylor like I had liked
kissing guys before. Taylor was gentle and kind; he didn’t maul me. Quite the
opposite.
I
smiled softly as we left the parking garage, where I had paid the outrageous
week-long parking fee, his arms around my waist, holding me tenderly against
him. I leaned my head against his shoulder as we walked back into the hotel,
stepping into the elevator. As I reached for the button to my floor, Taylor
reached out instead, pressing the one for forty-two. “I want you to meet my
brothers,” he said softly, kissing the top of my forehead.
I
smiled back, looking at our reflection in the mirrored doors. I was only a
couple inches shorter than Taylor, and I leaned easily against him, comfortable
in his arms. My pants were loose like his, draped over my body. I wore a black
tank top, my bare arms pale as his. Me with the one extreme of charcoal locks,
long, thick with curls, him at the other with his golden halo clipped in a
rather messy fashion layered just below his ears. Together, we looked like the
perfect couple. I smiled as I thought of that, of us together, as a couple.
Taylor had made it pretty clear by the way he spoke to me, by the way he
treated me that he planned on seeing me after this week.
“What’re
you smiling at?” Taylor asked me as he led me from the elevator, pulling the
key to his room from his pocket.
“Us.
We look perfect together,” I told him, the grin still spread across my face. He
grinned back, pushing open the door to his room and leading me inside the
trashed room. His brothers were sprawled out on the couch, their eyes focused
on the TV. I heard the faint moans before I saw the images, wincing lightly to
myself as the naked skin caught my eyes.
“Shit!
Taylor!” Isaac exclaimed, jumping up. He slammed the power button to the TV
after several tries, then looked anxiously at Zac. “Thanks for telling us that
you were bringing some one back!”
“Sorry.”
He shrugged, a slightly embarrassed look on his face as he offered me a smirk.
“I didn’t know you were going to be still watching porn. You must have spent a
lot.”
“Can
you shut up?” Zac snapped sarcastically, looking over at me with disdain. “Why
don’t you go to her room? Or would her parents object to you two screwing
around?”
“What?”
I asked loudly. I looked over at Taylor, anger shooting through my veins. “What
the hell is he talking about?”
“Nothing!”
Taylor told me quickly. A little too quickly.
“Oh,
so this is the girl that things are ‘going to be different’ with Taylor? That’s
why you didn’t tell her about how you… well,
you sure as hell know what I’m talking about!” Isaac spat bitterly in a
biting voice as he looked back over at us again.
I
sure as hell didn’t know.
“Thank-you,
Isaac. I do believe the second date isn’t normally the best time to bring up
the old dirt!” he growled back at Isaac. “I just wanted her to meet you guys.
Christ, if you’re going to such an asshole-“
“Taylor,
it’s nearly midnight!”
“You’re
still up, aren’t you?”
“Wait!”
I suddenly shouted, stepping away from Taylor and looking at him angrily. “What
the fuck are you talking about?”
“Morgana, please, now is not the time for me to explain.”
“I
can explain really easily. Taylor fucks around,” Zac announced. The horrified
look on Taylor’s face, combined with the certain satisfaction smeared over
Zac’s, told all. “You’re the only girl he hasn’t slept with within a day of
meeting in over two years.”
I
looked over at Taylor, whose face was bright red. With embarrassment, anger, or
both, I wasn’t quite sure.
“Thanks
Zac. I was planning on not having my brother tell her,” Taylor muttered back,
turning to me now with terrified eyes. “Morgana, I
swear, I’m going to be different with you. I really care about you. You’re the
first girl to understand me, even mildly. Remember what we talked about the
other morning? Or today? That’s not pick-up lines, ok? That was from the
heart.” I watched as he knelt down in front of me, wrapping his arms around me,
pressing his cheek to my stomach. “Please, Morgana,
God, not over this.”
“Taylor,
I’m not ...”
“Please,
Morgana.” He stood again, grabbing my shoulders and
looking into my eyes, his own pleading and desperate. He kissed my cheek
softly, then my lips.
Against
my better judgment, I kissed him back, wrapping my arms around his neck. He
hadn’t treated me badly in any way and people do change…
“Thank
you,” he whispered softly in my ear as we broke apart, his breath hot against
my skin.
I
looked back over at his brothers, now watching us with a mixture of disbelief
and shame. “Look, Tay, I’m sorry. You should’ve been the one to tell her, not
me,” Zac apologized after a moment, looking down to the ground with flaming
cheeks. Isaac remained silent as he looked at us, his face heating up with the
same fire as Zac’s.
“Anyway,
guys, this is Morgana,” Taylor said softly, ignoring
Zac’s words. I smiled tightly at them, embarrassed with the night’s events.
“Hi,”
they both said quietly, and then giving Taylor a look, they retreated to
another room.
“I’m
so sorry you just heard that from Zac,” Taylor immediately apologized, leading
me over to the couch. I sat beside him, leaning against his shoulder again.
“It’s
all true then?”
“Yeah,”
he replied uneasily, shifting nervously beside me. “I was going to tell you…
just not right off. But I swear to you that I’m going to do things differently
with you. I swear.”
“I
believe you Taylor.” I smiled softly, wrapping my arms around him and kissing
his neck softly. “If I didn’t, you’d be alone right now.”
He
was silent as I kissed him again, gently and soft, my lips meeting his gently.
He brought one hand to my hair, tangling his fingers in the soft blond
tendrils. “I have to leave New York in three days. How much longer are you
going to be here?”
“I’m
here for another week. This conference is an on-going thing over a month. I’m
just here for a week though,” I told him quietly, snuggling into his welcome
arms.
“So
we can spend tomorrow together?”
“Yeah.
I’d like that.” I smiled softly at him, kissing his cheek lightly. “I’ve got a
seminar at three. You can come with me if you want,” I offered, looking up into
his beautiful eyes, eyes I could spend hours drowning myself in.
“I dunno. Seminars aren’t really my thing. You know what I
want to do?”
“What?”
“I
want to surprise you. You just have to be back here at three, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Good,
so I’ll come get you at eleven thirty. I have the best idea.” He grinned
broadly at me, kissing my forehead again softly as he looked into my eyes.
“You’re going to love this.”
“Somehow,
I have a feeling I will. I’ve heard you’re a romantic guy. Even if you did
sleep around,” I told him softly, accepting another slow kiss, his mouth
lingering against mine. His fingers were slightly callused with his nearly
extensive playing as he rubbed his hand against my cheek oh-so-gently.
I
smiled as he kissed me again, the kisses slow, drifting away slowly and then
coming back again. He was so gentle, so sweet. He lay back against the couch
cushions, smiling up at me as I lay across his torso, one hand on the arm rest,
the other sinking into the cushion at his side. He pulled my mouth to his
gently, kissing me as I fell against him, the heat of his body pleasant through
the fibers of our clothes.
I
pulled away after a few moments, our kisses beginning to gain passion that I
didn’t necessarily want at that moment, leaning my head against his chest. I
smiling to myself as he ran his fingers through my hair. “I really should go,
Taylor. Nic’s probably wondering where I am.”
“Alright.
You want me to walk with you?”
“Nah,
I can go alone. I don’t want you to get caught.” I sat up, kissing him once
more as he sat up with me, leading me over to the door. Once there, he stopped,
folding me into his arms.
“Morgana, please, please believe me when I say I won’t hurt
you. I’m through using people. I… I want to love you and I want all the pain
and heartache that comes with that love. I believe in love at first sight and
in people being meant for each other. I think we were meant to be together, Morgana,” he whispered softly in my ear as he held me
gently, so very gently.
“I
believe in all that too. I believe in fate. I know that we have something
together. Whether it’s fate throwing us a bone or not, I don’t know,” I said in
his ear as he started to pull away. He smiled before kissing me gently again
and opening the door.
“Good-night
Morgana,” he called after me softly as I walked down
the hall, the feel of his fingers on my skin fresh and pleasant.
“Ana,”
I said softly, turning around to take his hand and brush my lips against it.
“Alright,
‘night, Ana,” he repeated, kissing my cheek once more before I started
to walk away again.
“Good
night Taylor,” I called over my shoulder, voice echoing in my mind as I got
onto the elevators and rode back to my room.
Nicole
was wide-awake, waiting on the couch when I came back into the room. “Where’ve
you been?” she asked softly as I stepped inside, removing my boots and throwing
them into the corner.
“With
Taylor,” I replied as she followed me into the bedroom we shared. I quickly
changed into a pair of flannel pants and a tank top, then slipped under the
blankets, turning out the light. Nicole did the same, but her words found me
easily in the dark.
“What’d
you guys do?”
“We
went down to the beach. I told him about Matt... and he didn’t flip out. He’s
willing to give me the time and patience I need. I also met his brothers and
uh… apparently, Taylor was a bit of a player. But he says he’s giving it up and
he’s going to do things right with me. He started telling me how he wants to
fall in love with me,” I said softly in the darkness, a content sigh escaping
my lips as I spoke. I smiled softly to myself, snuggling down deeper under the
blankets. “Nic, he kissed me and I felt like I was
floating. And this is after I haven’t let a guy touch me in months. He was so
gentle.”
“You
deserve this, Ana. Don’t ever think you don’t,” she finally replied after a few
moments of silence.
“I
know. He said he has a surprise for me tomorrow. I can’t wait!” I sighed again,
a soft smile on my lips as I closed my eyes and drifted away into sleep.
I
woke up around ten-thirty, Nicole having already left early to go shopping with
a girl she had met the day before. I rolled out of bed, stretching my hands
high over my head as I yawned. Then padded over to the bathroom, studying my
reflection in the full-length mirror on the back of the door.
I
sighed as I looked at myself in the mirror. I knew I wasn’t an ugly girl by any
means. And I wanted to dress to show off what I knew I had. But I also didn’t
want those other guys looking at me. I didn’t want the nasty, scummy guy
sitting on the corner with a bottle of whiskey leering at me. Christ, I’d been
raped. I didn’t want it to happen again.
Poor
Taylor, I thought to myself as I undressed, turning on the hot water to take a
shower. He has no idea what he’s getting into. His girlfriend is never going to
want to be at a public beach or wear revealing clothes, even though she knows
damn well she has the body for it.
I
tried to rid the thoughts from my mind, I really did. But even when I had
finished showering and then stood dressed in my underwear, staring at my
clothes, the thoughts were still there. I sighed as I reached for a short
skirt, and then dropped the filmy fabric. It was fine for sitting with business
people in a seminar, but not for a date in New York City. I picked up a pair of
pants I loved, the black fabric speckled with glitter that made them shimmer
faintly. They were fitted across the butt and thighs, but only slightly, and
flared out after my knees. On the two back pockets, three stars were sewn, the
thread silver and shimmering. I bit my lip as I looked at the shirts I owned.
Non-revealing was not an option. It was summer.
“Fuck,”
I whispered softly under my breath as I ran my fingers over the thin fabrics. I
finally gave up, taking a black tank-top with a tiny blue butterfly sewn at the
neckline, which was rather low-cut. I pulled the shirt over my head, faintly
dismayed to see my flat stomach as well as quite a bit of cleavage staring back
at me. I wanted to cry as I stared at my reflection. I was a pretty girl, I was
seventeen and I didn’t want to show any skin.
All
because of Matt.
And
I wasn’t going to even touch on those faint lines that ran parallel to the
veins along my wrists; I was just going to be thankful that they hadn’t caught
Taylor’s eyes. Speaking of which, where were those bracelets? I had better put
them on, I thought anxiously as I riffled through my small bag of jewelry.
“You
know nothing’s going to happen to you,” I whispered to myself, my fierce words
garbled by the tears I refused to cry stinging my eyes while I fiercely tugged
the metal and plastic bands over my wrists. “You know Taylor’s not going to
hurt you. Leave it alone.”
I
hurried from the mirror, running to the bathroom and tying up my hair in some
weird hairstyle Nicole had found for me in a punk magazine. I spread some
make-up across my face, thick black eyeliner for my eyes, deep gray eye shadow.
My mask.
I
found my small purse next, one of those tiny bags that were maybe four inches
by four inches. It had been a gift from Skye, who had been to Hawaii visiting
relatives the past summer. I slipped my wallet in, then the room key. I found
the keys to my car and threw those in as well. I hit the power button on the
radio, cutting off Sully and his screaming.
I
heard Taylor’s knock as I was reaching for a pair of sandals. I rushed to the
door, flinging it open and ushering him inside. “Sorry,” I began as I reached
for the black sandals, Teva’s with celestial suns and
moons printed across the straps, “I just need to put on a pair of shoes.”
“It’s
alright.” He smiled at me, his Oakley’s propped up in his hair which was pulled
back easily in an elastic. A backpack hung off one of his shoulders and I
looked at it curiously as I found a pair of sunglasses and then walked out the
door, him beside me.
“What’s
in the bag?”
“You’ll
see,” he promised as we walked down the hall together, his hand reaching down
to take mine. I laced my fingers with his easily, smiling to myself.
“Where
are we going?”
“You’ll
see.” He grinned easily once again, kissing the top of my head. “But I promise
you’ll like what I have planned.”
And I
hide all the pain,
That
I’ve gained with my wisdom from you,
And
I’m eaten alive by what I hold inside,
All
the things that I live with I can’t easily hide,
And
I’m left here with nothing, nothing to live for but you...”
We spent the entire afternoon at Central Park, lounging in the
sun and enjoying each other’s company. She forgot completely about her seminar,
(not that I didn’t)
and didn’t remember until it was too late to get back. So we
went out for dinner at a little café, and then hung out in her room for a
while. I left as the hour neared eleven and went to sleep with dreams of her.
The next day I had some promotional things to do for the band,
but I was finished with all of it by four. Morgana
had two seminars that day anyway, so we couldn’t do anything. She had already
missed the one the day before and didn’t want to miss another.
And then there was my mother. She was starting to ask questions.
Questions like, “Where the hell were you the last two nights?” I told her that
I had met a girl and I was spending time with her.
Then I had to explain everything. I just hated how every time I
gave a little, they wanted everything.
But I did. I told her that I had met a girl who understood me. I
told her that I had gone with her to the beach, and that I had taken her to
Central Park the day before. I told her that I had spent the entire night
talking to Morgana about anything and everything. And
I told her that I wanted to have a real relationship with her, even if that
meant a lot of heartache and pain in-between everything else. I told her I
wanted what Isaac had with Becca.
So she demanded to meet Morgana.
“Is her sister hot?” Zac
asked almost immediately upon receiving news that the two sisters would be
joining us. (I had told Morgana to bring Nicole for
moral support.) He looked at me with a broad grin. I only shook my head. “Yeah, Zac, she’s hot.
She looks a lot like Morgana.”
“Kick ass.”
“Leave her sister alone,” I told him, rolling my eyes as the
grin he wore became broader. “Don’t harass her.”
“Me? Harass a girl? Never.”
“You’re a bad lair.”
“Never said I wasn’t.”
“You’re insufferable.”
“I pride myself on that.”
“Go to hell,” I finally snapped back, my eyes flashing as I
glared at him with my mock-angry gaze. But behind it all, I was glad I could
joke with him once again.
“Been there, done that. Hey, I’m Satan’s bitch.”
“And only you would be proud of that.”
But alas, there was no more time for our argument. There was a
hellish dinner to be attended. I could just imagine the suffering I would be
enduring.
As for Morgana, I found myself wishing
so many times that I could just take her into my arms, just hold her. My mother
shot her these looks that weren’t necessary by any means, and asked her
questions in a haughty tone I had rarely heard before. And as for our manger
and his treatment of her, he spoke of her as if she wasn’t even there,
completely ignoring that she sat to my side.
I was thankful when we finally left and I was allowed to steal
away and be with Morgana, alone… even if it was only
for a few minutes.
“Ana, I’m so sorry about everything tonight,” I whispered softly
in her ear as I closed the door behind us as we stepped into her hotel room.
“Don’t worry about it,” she muttered back, reaching one hand up
to my cheek and brushing her fingers against my skin softly.
“She shouldn’t have been such a bitch to you.”
“She just thought that I looked like a slut, Taylor. That I
looked like a five-cent-hooker who just stepped out of the local whorehouse.”
“Well, I think you’re beautiful,” I replied, taking her hands
into mine and kissing her fingertips gently. Letting my gaze wander over her
velvet clad body in a purposefully slow stare, I pulled her a little closer.
Yet she only smiled tightly, looking down, perhaps thinking I wouldn’t catch
the glimmer of tears. I kissed her cheek, pulling her into my arms.
“Why did she have to hate me so much?” she asked softly, her
cheek pressed to my shoulder causing her words to slur slightly.
“She doesn’t hate you,” I told her, but I knew that I was trying
to convince myself of that as much as I was trying to convince her.
(this too shall pass)
She was silent then and I was glad for it for a few moments.
That was, until I found that her silence wasn’t because she was reflecting on
our words.
“Taylor, why do you have these in your pocket? And I know it’s a
stupid question. So don’t bullshit me,” she replied evenly as she produced the
red and white box I had carefully concealed the entire night. I knew no matter
how I answered her, the reply wasn’t going to be anything she wanted to hear.
“I think you know why I’d be carrying around cigarettes,” I said
quietly, now unable to even look at her as she drew away from me, the Marlboros
clenched in one fist. I shoved my hands into the pockets of my pants and
finally looked up at her. But her back was turned against me.
“You’re going to ruin your voice,” she replied after a moment,
her voice tense as she turned and threw the pack back. I caught it easily,
turning it over and over, examining the red and white print as if it were
really of any interest at all.
“I know.”
“Do you think I’m going to yell and scream at you, Taylor?” She
turned around, arms folded across her chest as she looked back at me. “I’m not
going to. You’re a big boy. And I’m not angry. Surprised? Yeah! Angry, no.”
“So…?” I asked after a silent moment, looking back up at her.
“Taylor, I’m just going to say that I don’t want you smoking
around me. I don’t care if you do it when I’m not there, but not with me. I’m
not kissing an ashtray.”
“Fine, Ana,” I replied, standing up and wrapping her into my
arms after I slipped the box back into my pocket. I kissed her lightly, pulling
her closer and deepening our kiss. “See? Minty
fresh.” She giggled and relaxed back into my arms as we moved to the small
couch that sat against one wall of the room, sinking down into the plush
cushions of the piece of furniture.
“I’m kinda numb, it’s so
distorted,
You left me here with this damage that you’ve
caused,
My tortured faces, those fucked up places,
In my memories
none of them I’ve lost…”
“Taylor,”
I began softly as he stroked my back, his hands warm against my bare skin as I
lay on my bed, the halter top I wore untied.
“Yeah?”
“What’s
going to happen tomorrow?” I asked, thinking of him leaving me the next day on
his Tulsa-bound flight.
“I’m
going to go home,” he replied quietly after a moment of silence, his hands
becoming a little rougher as he rubbed at my tanned back, strong hands digging
into the muscles. The knots that held me captive were easily chased away by his
wonderfully strong hands and it felt down right delicious.
“That’s
not what I meant. I… am I going to see you again? Or are you just going to be a
memory of the amazing week I’ve spent in New York?” I asked quietly, happy that
he couldn’t see the sorrow in my eyes; I spoke into my arms folded beneath me.
“Ana…”
His voice trailed off after he had said my name, the soothing motion of his
hands against my back ceasing as I saw him move away from me. I quickly reached
around my back and retied the strap of my shirt and sat up. He didn’t say
anything, only took me into his arms and held me against him. I could feel the
pounding of his heart against my open palm through his thin tank-top when I
pressed my hand against his chest. “You think I’d just forget about you?” he
asked after a few moments.
“I
don’t know, Taylor. You have this whole other life back home in Tulsa. I have
another life back in Connecticut. It kind of seems like this is some sort of
unreal, fantastic experience that was wonderful and everything, but that we’ve
got to both go back to reality tomorrow. It seems like this is a perfect dream
where two people are perfect together, who have the beginning of the perfect
relationship, but it’s just that. A dream that we’re going to wake up from,” I
told him softly, the sad tone of my voice seeping through my words. I traced a
pattern on his chest, and looked into his eyes as he tipped my chin up to look
at him.
“Morgana,” he finally murmured quietly, chasing away the
silence and running his thumb over my barely parted lips, “I want you to know
that I really care about you. I’m not going to forget you when I leave tomorrow.
You’ll see me again,” he promised, his gaze never leaving my eyes, his thumb
trailing against my mouth. I smiled in response, a soft grin that was somewhat
embarrassed, yet incredibly delighted, by his words. He looked down, a soft
blush creeping into his cheeks as it hit him how much he had just let me see.
But
it was me who tilted my head so that I fell into his gaze and brought my mouth
to rest against his, lips soft and inviting as he wrapped me into his arms
again. He leaned against the wall, legs stretched out in front of him and he
pulled me onto his lap, arms around me.
I
grinned in delight, him tickling my sides when I paused to swing one leg on
either side of his hips, kneeling over him with my hands on his shoulders.
Reaching for his shirt, the tank top on inside out as was his custom, I tugged
lightly as I pulled it over his head. He watched as I ran my fingers over his
well-muscled torso and shoulders, tracing tiny patterns over his smooth skin,
smiling in delight at the firmness of his body under my fingers. I ran the tip
of my finger down to the button of his jeans, grinning as he fidgeted ever so
slightly under my touch, a blush rising to his cheeks. I only giggled lightly.
“Laughing
at me, are you?” he growled softly, grabbing my hands and pulling me against
him once again. I couldn’t contain my laughter as he tickled me with his other
hand, holding my hands against his chest easily with the other.
(Yes, good, against his chest so that
the inside of my wrists didn’t show. The scars were faint anyway.)
Even
as I twisted my body into positions I never though possible, his fingers danced
across the small of my back, the back of my neck, the tiny goose bumps raised
by his soft touch spreading across my skin.
But
he stopped, pressing his palm open against my back and releasing my hands as he
tangled one of his own into my hair, slowly bringing his mouth to mine. When
our lips met, it was a soft kiss, sweet and slow. I loved it more than anything
else when he kissed me that way, lingering as he pulled away and then came
back, nearly crushing my body against his with his passion.
In a
way, I loved the feel of his strength, I loved the feeling of nearly being
crushed against him when he held me. But in another way, I had been held down
by a guy before. And the vivid memory of it was a hard thing to shake. I
couldn’t pretend it hadn’t happened. I had tried that. It didn’t work.
I
still had issues about being with Taylor. There had been times over the last
week when I’d found myself wanting to just lay on the bathroom floor and cry.
There were times when I found his touch repulsive, when the very thought of his
hands on me was more terrifying than anything imaginable. I was getting better,
but it was a slow process, one that would take time to complete itself.
But
there were also the times when I couldn’t get enough of him, his soft touch,
the delicious scent he carried with him; I could suffocate on the faint scents
of herbs and CKBe. There were times when I wanted
nothing more than to feel his smooth skin under my fingers, to be tickled by
the sensation of his feathery hair against my shoulder.
And
he was understanding, so understanding that I sometimes wondered how he had
been able to just screw with some random girl. He would soothe me by singing
softly, songs that he sometimes made up as he went along and other times ones
he’d known for years, songs that had never made it onto “Middle of Nowhere”, or
that had been written the previous summer. He held me so softly when he sang;
sometimes I sat on his lap with his arms around me, others he kneeled in front
of me, or sat beside me, holding my hands tightly.
It
seemed like we’d been together so much longer than we’d actually been, that I
sometimes wondered it there was such a thing as people meant for each other. If
the entity called destiny was toying with me… or perhaps rewarding me for all
the pain I’d endured.
But right then I didn’t care if
we were meant for each other or not. The only thing I knew was that I was in
Taylor’s arms and loving it, that having him hold me was the most delicious
feeling I had ever experienced. He held me against him more tightly now, both
of his palms pressed firmly against my bare skin. He let his mouth drift over
my cheek, down to my neck and then back to my mouth where his lips captured
mine in another unbelievable kiss.
He
broke away from me after another moment or so, breathing deeply as he cradled
my head against his chest, brushing out the tangles with long fingers. I
greedily drew the air into my lungs, head rising and falling with the rhythm of
his breath as he let one arm drape over my shoulders, the other in my hair.
With my eyes closed as I lay against him and the thud of his heart in my ear, I
was content to listen merely to the sound of the air passing through his lips.
And to hear the fast-paced beat in my ears, wondering if perhaps my own heart
was pounding as furiously.
I
lay back after a moment, my back against the mattress as I took Taylor’s hand
and pressed it against my heart, the intense throb of my heart under his
fingers. “Your heart’s racing,” he whispered softly in my ear, his lips warm as
his breath. His other arm snaked under my shirt onto my stomach, letting his fingers rest on my skin.
“So’s yours,” I replied softly, smiling even though I
couldn’t see him with my eyes closed against the light of the room. I didn’t
see him move and instead only felt his soft kisses on my eyelids, the hand that
had rested over my heart now against my forehead as he dropped feather-soft
kisses over my eyes and forehead. When I finally let my eyes slip open, he was
resting on his elbows, watching me with the anticipation of a little boy
watching his mother make his favorite cookies.
Having
finally regained my breath, I lifted one hand to his mouth, trailing my
fingertips over his lips, grinning as he smiled down at me, his eyes bottomless
and captivating. I was drowning and I didn’t want anyone to save me. I let my
lips stretch out once again as I reached behind my neck for the clasp of the
necklace I had always worn, a silver cross I had received from my grandfather
right before he died. I hadn’t taken it off in over a year and a half.
Yet
now it came off as I un-did the clasp and closed it again around Taylor’s neck.
The cross dropped down around his neck, falling to his chest on its long silver
chain. I pulled him to me, kissing the cross against his skin.
“Morgana... I can’t take this from you,” he started softly,
reaching back behind his neck to undo the clasp.
“No,”
I replied firmly, taking his hand and pulling it away from the clasp. “That
cross has been in my family for centuries, but I want you to have it now. And
if I never get it back and my grandfather entrusted it to me as the fickle and
naïve teenager I know I still am and I lose it, then so be it. The necklace
moves to a new family. But I somehow think that I’m not going to lose this
cross, Taylor. I’ve known you for a week and a half, and I know that I’m
falling in love with you.”
“Morgana, I’ve known you for a week and a half and I already
love you,” he whispered softly, without a moment’s hesitation as he stared back
into my eyes, stretching forward to kiss my mouth. Then he dropped a tender
kiss on either of my eyelids before pulling away. It wasn’t just I who’d heard
the door. Nicole was back from her shopping expedition.
As I
straightened my clothes and ran a hairbrush through my hair, Taylor reached
down to the floor and picked up his shirt, replacing the tight, black fabric
over his wonderfully toned body. “Nicole’s not going to be upset you gave me
this?” he asked me as he fingered the necklace around his neck, removing
another he had put on that morning, shoving it into the pocket of his loose
green cargo-pants.
“Nah,
I actually told her I was going to last night when we were talking about you,”
I replied nonchalantly, walking over to him and draping my arms over his
shoulders.
“Oh?
Talking about me? Anything interesting?” he asked playfully, dropping his arms
to my waist and easily supporting my weight as I leaned back against his grasp.
He kissed my neck, tugging me closer and mischievously nibbling at my skin. I
giggled softly under my breath, his playfulness delightful.
“Yeah,
all the bad stuff,” I told him, slapping his arm lightly as I pulled away from
him, sighing as I looked at him, his gorgeous eyes and angelic blond locks
hanging in his eyes in the messy fashion I loved. I was going to miss him, that I knew. But I didn’t realize quite
how much until it was too late.
“I’m
going to come back down here before we leave tomorrow, alright?” he asked,
taking me back into his arms and resting his cheek against my shoulder.
“Yeah, I’ll be up. Just tell me
around what time,” I said, the reality of the fact that tomorrow Taylor was
leaving and I might not see him for a while finally beginning to sink in. My
grasp on him tightened as I squeezed my eyes shut tightly. I was not going to
cry. And especially not in front of him.
I
kissed him once more, a deep kiss that held the emotion we had confessed to
each other only moments earlier. There was no lingering, no slowness. There was
only a certain desperateness in our kiss, a heated passion that we couldn’t
hold back any longer for the sake of having a romantic moment. This was about
knowing that we might not be able to hold anyone for a long time to come, that
we might not be able to kiss each other... it wasn’t about romance; it was just
me and Taylor completely lost in the other.
When he finally pulled away, I
picked up the cross and kissed it as I had before, then let it drop back to his
chest. He smiled with a hint of melancholy at me, placing his hands on my
shoulders and dropping a kiss on my forehead before opening the door. I heard
him say good-bye to Nicole as I sat back down on the bed, the blankets rumpled
and still warm.
I waited
until I was certain that he was gone, until my sister came into the room and
put her arm around me, to bend my head to my chest. Drawing in a ragged breath
past the heavy lump in my throat, I could still pick up Taylor’s faint scent on
my skin. It was then that the tears did spill forward, ignoring the promise I
had made to myself that I wasn’t going to cry.
I had finally found love, that I
was certain of. I had found someone that even if I didn’t know deep down I
loved him, I knew it was only a matter of time. But my love, he lived thousands
of miles away and was one of the beautiful people. And me, I was a nobody in a little-shit-town in the
middle of nowhere.
“The demons in my head won’t leave me,
I know I can hear
them,
All your artificial words won’t heal me,
Because you can’t accept me.
I’m
ok, I’m ok…”
I would have been better off staying up the entire night with Morgana instead of going back to my own hotel room and
avoiding any form of conversation with my already-distant brothers. I’m not an
overly emotional person by any means, but I feared that if I opened my mouth to
say even the smallest word, I was going to start crying. I had told Morgana I loved her and I knew deep down inside of me, in
every fiber of my being, it was true. I finally knew what Isaac went through
every time we left, every time he had to go to Rebecca’s and say goodbye.
For the longest time, in those rare moments of sobriety, I had
confided in Isaac that I wished I had someone to feel that pain for, that I
cared about somebody so much that it hurt to be apart. Because if it hurt that
badly to be away from them, then it made being together even more gratifying.
Those moments I had spoken like that to him had been rare, but they had been
there.
Now I had feelings I didn’t quite understand. Why was I falling
for her so fast? Why was I so certain I was in love with her when I remembered
quite clearly how that very question had plagued Isaac for weeks before he had
been able to answer it?
These questions finally led me to go to my older brother, to
attempt to allow him to delve into the emotions I had even hidden from myself.
“Isaac, I’m so confused right now,” I found myself admitting as
he sat across from me, Zac merely listening. I didn’t care if he heard us talk.
Maybe one day it would do him some good to have seen his two other brothers go
through the turmoil of love. Just as
long as kept his biting comments to himself tonight, I didn’t mind his
presence. “I know I love her. Deep down inside, I’m sure. There’s no nagging
doubt or anything. I love her. But how can I after only a week?”
“Taylor,” Isaac started after a moment of silence, folding his
hands in front of him on the smooth gloss of the table before leaning back in
his chair. His face was carefully devoid of all emotion as he continued,
“You’ve spent every waking moment with her you possibly could. If we didn’t
have to be someplace or if she didn’t have to be someplace, you were together.
You think we don’t know you haven’t come back here until the earliest hours of
the morning everyday? You’re kidding yourself.” He sighed, looking around the
room at the junk that littered the place. All mine. I was supposed to have
picked it up… instead I had stayed with Morgana.
“Taylor,” Zac said suddenly, his voice surprisingly soft though
it cut through the dense silence. “Do you believe in true love? In people being
meant for each other?”
I thought about his question for a moment before I opened my
mouth to answer, my thoughts racing at what he was implying. “I believe it
exists. I also believed that it would never happen to me.”
“Key part of what you just say is that you never believed it would happen to you.
Believed is in the past tense, Taylor.” Zac raised one eyebrow at me from his
spot perched on the counter of the small kitchenette, sipping at a bottle of
water. Once again, there was no hostility.
Maybe things were going to be alright after all.
“You think that I was meant to be with Morgana
and because of that I love her so easily?”
“It doesn’t matter what I think. It’s your emotions.”
“But isn’t true love normally tested to some great extent, to
the point where you might have to give almost everything to save your love?
Isn’t that test to see if it really was true love?” I asked, looking at them
both, thoughts of the perfect happiness I had experienced with Morgana in the last few days filtered through my mind.
“You’ve been with her for a week,” Isaac replied without looking
at me, the cryptic tone to his voice echoing eerily in my mind. I looked over at Zac, yet he couldn’t look
meet my gaze either. They looked only at each other before silently slipping
off to bed.
Had those simple words really hit home that hard? But what did
those words do to Zac’s emotions? Isaac I could understand, because he always
finds himself questioning if he really, truly loves Rebecca. But Zac? That
couldn’t be it…
Then it hit me. The reason they refused to look at me was
because it was me they were worried
about. I was their brother, even after all the bullshit I had put them through.
I had just fallen, no plummeted, into an emotion they didn’t know what
to do about. My comment about true love being tested to the point where you
would do anything, give up anything, for that love, that was what had hit home so ferociously with them.
In that moment, I was the closest I ever got to realizing just
how deeply I was getting involved. The
only problem was, I was so far away that what should have been a blinding light
was the faintest star in the sky.
Needless to say, a mess would not even come close to describing
what I was inside when I left her, having to run through the hotel halls
because I spent such an excess of time saying goodbye. On the outside, I put on
my show, appearing to merely be on the tired side because I hadn’t gotten much
sleep the night before. Not that that was a lie in the least. I hadn’t
gotten any sleep the night before. I had been busy crying silent tears into a
pillow so that my brothers wouldn’t know my pain.
I think Isaac knew.
On the outside I gave the world what it wanted. I was Taylor
Hanson, pop star defining upbeat. But on the inside, where nobody could see, I
was the biggest mess I had ever been. Emotions raged a battle inside my body,
tearing at my limbs as I tried to fight against them… to no avail. I was happy
to have found love, but I wanted to pitch myself out of the plane that carried
me back to Tulsa because of the pain that the departure from Morgana brought me.
I slept through most of the plane flight, exhausted.
When I got home, my best friend was waiting, the pain I suffered
unknown I had hoped that I was going to sleep through the worst of it, that the
immediate separation was the worst it got.
Wrong.
Because not only was one of my friends at the house, but Rebecca
was there too. And what happened the second that Isaac got out of the car? He
dropped his bag onto the ground and swung her into his arms as she ran to meet
him. Their sweet embrace took the knife that had impaled itself in my heart and
twisted it a full three-sixty.
Isaac realized it too, as soon as Rebecca’s feet hit the ground
again. He shot me a sympathetic look, bending to whisper in his girlfriend’s
ear. I looked away before she could give me a look I didn’t want to see.
No sympathy, please. It would just make me more upset.
“Hey, what’s wrong with you? Aren’t you happy to be home?” Tom,
my best friend since as long as I could remember, asked as I opened the door to
my house and trudged to my room.
Tom was tall, lanky as I. He still had his muscular legs of our
youth-group soccer games, all the more enhanced from his continued devotion to
the sport. He pierced in one ear, a simple silver stud, done right after I’d
had mine done. No-good thief.
The one thing Tom has never ripped from me, or could have if
he’d tried, was my general appearance. He wasn’t nearly as built as I was;
aside from his legs, I would almost call him scrawny. His hair was a natural
black, yet he kept it clipped short, revealing ears a little too large for his
head. Clothes from stores like Pacific Sunwear and
Hot Topic, Tom would rather die than wear any of my tight designer clothing. Or
go on a vintage clothe shopping spree. In fact, he’d always proclaimed that was
Kira’s responsibility. After all, ‘shopping is a
chick thing’.
“No,” I said simply to his question, dumping my things into the
closet. One hand played absently with the necklace I wore, Morgana’s
necklace.
“Why?”
“Morgana,” I told him, sitting down on
my bed and looking at my bewildered friend. “The girl I want nothing more than
to be with right now.”
“Whoa! Taylor, hold on, when you left here you were jumping off
the wall about New York. Why are you being so serious?”
“I fell in love,” I replied evenly, my tone flat and containing
no emotion as I looked at him.
“In a week?” he asked, skeptical. Laughter rang in his voice as
he raised his eyebrows.
“Don’t laugh.” There must have been something in the tone of
voice I spoke in that told him I was dead serious, because he stopped laughing
as if his plug had been pulled.
“Hey, you’re serious… so she’s really that great in bed?” He
started laughing again, waiting for me to drop the ‘act’ and join in his
laughter.
“I didn’t touch her, Tom. She was raped.”
“What? Taylor, what the hell! Joke’s over.”
“Not a joke Tom.” I looked up then at him, let him see that
there was no trace of amusement on my face. “I met a girl who understands me. I
fell in love with her. I didn’t sleep with her. And it’ll probably be a really
long time before I do, yet I don’t care. And it’s not because I’m going to
cheat on her. It’s because I love her and if you want to joke around about
that, you can get the hell out.”
“Hey, chill, I didn’t know. You’ve just gotta
admit, this is a complete one-eighty from how you were when you left Tulsa two
weeks ago.”
“Things change.”
“Not that much in two weeks,” he told me, shaking his head as he
looked at me, plopping into the overstuffed chair in one corner of my room.
I only shrugged. I wasn’t going to pretend that I knew what was
going on with me, why a girl had had such an affect on me in such a short
amount of time. I couldn’t explain how I knew it, but I was assured that things
with her were just going to be different. Plain and simple.
“So what’s she like?” Tom asked after the silence I knew he
dreaded begun to settle over us. “I mean, I kinda
want to know what kind of girl has got you this… changed you this much.”
“I don’t know how to explain it. She’s just… I don’t know. She’s
just different from any other girl I’ve ever met. She understands me. Really
understands. You wanna see some pictures?” I asked
suddenly, getting up and digging through my bags for the photos taken one
afternoon in Central Park. Morgana had insisted on
bringing them straight to a one-hour photo, minus my company.
“Sure,” Tom replied, looking at the pictures in my hands with
curiosity as I walked back over and dropped them on his lap.
“They’re not all of her. She stole the camera a few times,” I
explained as he started to sift through the pictures, Morgana’s
angelic looks and sweet smile staring back at him from the glossy prints. Mixed
between the pictures of her were pictures she had taken of me and then there
was one or two of the us together. It was on one of these that Tom stopped.
He sighed as he held the picture in his hands, gaze going to my
form beside him. “You know, Taylor, I’ve known you for a really long time and
I’ve never seen you look this happy,” he said, letting the photo drop back down
with the rest. He looked up, hand running through the spikes he’d lured his
hair into.
“What’d you mean?”
“Taylor, I’ve never seen you look this happy before. Not when
you found out you had a record deal, not when you heard yourself on the radio,
not when your CD went to number-one.”
I fell silent, picking up the photo from the top of the stack. I
sighed as I took in the look on my face, the glimmer in my eyes I wasn’t used
to seeing staring back at me. “Tom, do you think I’m going to get hurt or
something?” I finally asked, letting the photos spill onto my desk.
“I think you should be careful what you do. I think you could
get hurt if you’re not. To tell you the truth, I’m happy that you’re finally
this happy, but if she’s got this much of an effect on you already, I don’t
know.” He stood up then, running his fingers through his spiked hair as he
walked over to the door, opening it and then turning back to me. “I’ve got to
get to work. I just wanted to come by and see how New York was. I’ll talk to
you later. Tell Kira I said hi when you talk to her.”
Then he was gone, door closing quietly before him. It had been a
strange conversation, considering what I normally told him about a girl was how
great she was in bed. Or how bad. But I had never told him I had fallen in love
with a girl. Never… because I never had.
As long as I could remember, I had used girls. I’m not proud of
it looking back now, but it was what I did. I slept with them if they were
pretty or if I was drunk enough to not care. I let the sluts do whatever they
wanted to me and I did whatever I wanted to the girls who let me. And sometimes
to the girls who took a little convincing.
I had scorned Isaac for being faithful to Rebecca, and to his
few other girlfriends when he was younger. I had scorned him for his refusal to
go with me to the wild parties I attended, partying until the sun came up. I
sneered at the way he only shook his head at me when I stumbled home, flying
high on something illegal and whatever
sexual experience I’d been had by that night. I belittled him for listening to
whatever Rebecca said, for idolizing her.
Yet now as I looked back at everything, I realized how many
people I had hurt in my quest to have a good time and to keep people at arm’s
length. Because that had been the reason I had done what I had, even if I
didn’t realize it until the fat lady had sung her song. I hadn’t wanted anyone
to see inside, to get close enough to me that I could be hurt.
I didn’t know how she had, but Morgana
had broken through that shell with an almost eerie ease. Had I just been ready
to finally let someone in, or was my belief in true love existing being
realized? It was bothering me, the conversation that night in the hotel room
with my brothers. Why had I said that I believed it would never happen to me?
Believed, as Zac had pointed out, was in the past tense.
I sighed, curling up in my chair, upholstered in a soft and
luxurious, rich red fabric. I had no idea when I’d see her again, but I wanted
it to be now. And I’d only been away from her for a few hours.
I went through the next week moping around the house until my
mother and father sat me down and demanded to know what was wrong with me. They
said they were both worried about me, that my attitude lately was not my normal
one. They said I was too serious, I was too dark for my usual personality.
“Mom,” I’d started, laughter spilling from my lips as I looked
at her and my dad, the situation incredibly amusing to me, “Have you seen your
phone bill yet?”
“No.”
“Well, when you’ve got all those calls to Connecticut, you’ll
know why. I fell in love Mom, and the girl I’m in love with is thousands of
miles away. I sit in this house and listen to Isaac talk about Rebecca this and
Rebecca that. And all I can think about is Morgana.
I’m dark because I miss her and it hurts.” I glared down at the floor, anger
welling up in me. How could they be expected to understand? They didn’t know
what I was going through. Hell, my mother hadn’t said a word to me about Morgana and I hadn’t offered any information. I was in love
with her and they had no idea.
“Taylor, love is a serious thing. I don’t think you,”
“Mom! Look, I don’t mean to be a brat or anything, but I’m in
love with her. I know I love her. There’s not
doubt in my mind and I’m quite aware of what love is. I love her,”
I cut my mother off as she started speaking, throwing my hands up in the air and
then sweeping one of them fierily through the air to make my point. I ran my
hands through my messy hair, throwing it around my head as I looked back at
her, a fiercely defiant look in my eyes.
“Well, what do you want us to do then?” she asked after a
moment, looking at me and then at my dad and then back at me.
“Let her come down here for a week,” I replied instantly, not
even realizing what I had said until it had already escaped my lips. Was I out
of my mind? What made me think my mother would allow her to come for a week?
“Would she even be allowed to be here for a week?”
“Yes!” I replied once again, speaking before I even realized
what I was saying. It was almost uncanny how I just blurted things out without
even thinking, how an automatic answer was ready on my lips for my mother’s
questions.
“Alright Taylor. If that will stop you from sinking into some
depression, then we’ll let her come down here. You arrange everything though.
We’re not going to do this for you.” My mother sighed as she spoke, looking at
my father. He smiled tightly at me, then got up and left.
“Taylor, can I ask you something?” she asked softly as my father
walked away, leaning forward and speaking in a rather quite tone. I nodded and
she continued, “I know you think I don’t like her at all. But it’s not true.”
She paused then, looking around the room and then back at me. “Taylor, you said
you love her. How are you so sure that you love her?”
I was silent. Did I really want to pour my heart out to my
mother? Then again, I was getting older and maybe it was better for her to hear
me describe my feelings for Morgana so she knew I was
serious. “Mom, talking to her is like hearing an angel. And when I was with
her… she’s just so different from any girl I’ve ever met before. We understand
each other so perfectly it’s kinda strange. I can
tell how she feels so easily and she can do the same and we were only together
for a little over a week. She’s all I think about. She’s everything I’ve ever
dreamed about having when I see Rebecca and Isaac together. I love her so much
that it hurts when I have to say goodbye on the phone. And leaving New York was
one of the hardest things I’ve had to do.” I felt somewhat relieved with my
confessions as my mother offered an approving smile.
“Alright, Taylor. You’ve proved your point. You arrange this.
I’ll give you my credit card for the plane ticket.”
“Mom, you have no idea what this means to me!” I answered
gleefully, jumping up and kissing her cheek before running into the other room
to call Morgana with the good news.
“She’s taught to
believe it’ll be ok,
Look at your
face.
Scarred in
dismay, but times have changed,
And so have you,
I think I’d
rather crucify than learn...”
I was sitting on my bed with my
laptop, fingers flying over the keys as I wrote one of the most beautiful
stories I’d ever dreamed up. Taylor had become an inspiration I never thought I
would come across, and my writing flowed so eloquently from my fingertips, I
didn’t understand. Nor did I care to.
The
phone rang beside me, yet I ignored it. I wasn’t going to be interrupted by any
of my friends. Not Skye, my best friend, not by anybody. No one was that
important.
“Morgana!” Nicole knocked loudly on my door, yelling over
the music. I had Kittie on good and loud, drowning
out everything but my own thoughts as I typed more and more of my wondrous
story. “Morgana! Phone!”
“Tell
them I’ll call back!” I yelled, not bothering to stop typing and instead merely
shouting loudly, not removing my eyes from the screen.
“It’s
Taylor!”
“Never
mind!” I shouted back, hitting the power button on my CD player and clicking on
the phone just before Nicole hung up. “Hey, baby,” I greeted him, happy that I
was talking to him once again.
“Guess
what?” He didn’t bother with a greeting, which was somewhat unusual. I normally
got a greeting. He didn’t just jump into the conversation. Taylor wasn’t like
that.
“What?”
I asked curiously, saving my story and closing the document before I lay back
against the pillows on my bed. I let my cat climb over me and settle on my
stomach, lazily petting his head. He purred in content before wrapping his tail
over his nose and dozing off.
“Can
you come down to Tulsa for a week?” he asked, the excitement spilling from his
voice in volumes.
“What!”
I cried loudly, a grin springing to my lips as I quickly sat up, my cat giving
a discontent meow as he was thrown down to the floor. “Wait a sec! What’re you
talking about?”
“My
mom said you could come down here if I took care of everything. All you need to
do is find out if you can come,” he replied eagerly. I could hear the giddiness
in his voice, which was strange. Taylor was never giddy.
“Are,
are you for real?” I stuttered, the shock flowing through my limbs being
replaced with sheer joy as the prospect of seeing Taylor sank in, the
possibility of being in his arms again racing through my mind.
“Yes!
Can you come?”
“I
don’t know. Hold on!” I told him quickly, throwing the phone on my bed and
flinging open my bedroom door. I raced down the stairs, feet pounding heavily
in my hurry as I tore through the hall and found my mother. “Mom!” I gasped,
the air that was refusing to enter my lungs slurring my words as I tried
desperately to breathe. “Mom! Can I go visit Taylor for a week?”
“What?”
she asked crossly, giving me an annoyed look as she exchanged an amused glance
with Nicole.
“Can
I go to Tulsa for a week to stay with Taylor?” I asked again, this time more
clearly and without panting through my words. Still trying desperately to stay
calm. Failing miserably.
“Who’s
paying for the ticket?”
“Taylor.”
“His
parents said it was alright?”
“Yes!”
“Well,
if his parents ok’d this, I guess you can go. It’s
his house.” She sighed as she looked at me, but grabbed my arm as I turned to
run back to the phone in my room. “But I’m not paying for any of this. I just
paid for a week in New York for you and your sister.”
“I
know! Thank you so much, Mom!” I burst out as I kissed her cheek on impulse,
hugging her before tearing back into my room and picking up the phone. “She
said yes!” I blurted out, laughing hysterically.
“So
when do you want to be here?”
“Baby,
you say the word and I’m there,” I exclaimed eagerly, flopping back on my bed
and then immediately getting back up. I couldn’t sit still. Not if I tried. I
was wired from the prospect of being with Taylor again so soon.
“Three
days enough time for you?” he asked after a brief moment of being put on hold.
“Yeah!
When do I leave?”
“Ok, bye Morgana. I
love you.”
“Bye
Taylor,” I replied softly before clicking off the phone. Not two seconds after
the phone was replaced on the hook in my room did I hear Nicole’s soft knock.
“Eve’s-dropping are we?” I asked playfully as she entered my room and flopped
on my bed, watching as I started sifting through my junk to find my money.
“Nah,
I just wanted to see what was up. Going to visit Taylor?”
“Yep!”
I grinned broadly as I looked back over at her, my smile spreading over my
cheeks and seeping into my eyes. I knew I looked absurd, what with a giddy grin
on my lips and that odd excitement twinkling in my eyes. “For a week. His mom
said three days, so three more days until I get to see him. Nic,
I’m so excited!” I exclaimed, throwing my hands up and laughing again as I let
my head fall back, the long locks of hair streaming down my back.
“I can
see that,” she replied wryly, giving me an amused grin from her position on my
bed. She took one of my throw pillows and whipped it at my head. “But you had
better calm down before you lose it.”
“I
don’t care if I lose it,” I declared, grinning at her foolishly once again, my
giddy voice echoing off my high ceiling. “I’m in love. As long as I don’t lose
that, I don’t care.”
“I
can see you don’t care. You’ve totally lost it. I’ve never seen you this
excited over something before.”
“I’ve
never been this excited over something before,” I told her, grinning my
oh-so-stupid-looking grin as I threw my papers into the air, spinning among
them as they fluttered back down to the ground.
“Well,
you deserve it. You deserve Taylor and don’t think you don’t,” she told me,
voice taking on a slightly serious tone as she looked at me, me with my hair
streaming everywhere as I spun in circles.
“I
know. I know I deserve to be with him,” I said quietly, stopping my spinning
and walking over to where Nicole sat. As I sank down beside her, I accepted her
warm hug and simply relished the calming moment when I had just spent so long
being so crazy.
The
next afternoon, I found myself accepting another warm hug, this time from Skye
as we both got out of my car at the mall. I had just finished recounting my
story of the conversation with Taylor.
“I’m
happy for you, Morgana,” she said quietly as we
walked through the crowded parking lot, her coal rimmed eyes sneaking a quick
look at me as I stared up at the sky, grinning.
“Thanks.”
“So
does this mean we’ve got to go to Beauty Jungle or something for that massage
crap and stuff? Or are we going to Victoria’s Secret for something else?” she
asked mischievously as we entered the mall and started in the direction of our
first store.
“Both,”
I replied with an equally devilish look, my grin becoming wider if that was at
all possible. I giggled quietly under my breath, looking at the back of the
store, the naughty-looking outfits hanging on the back wall. “Could you imagine
the look on Tay’s face if I showed up in Tulsa
wearing something like that?”
“I
think he’d love it. But I think his mother would be horrified, and you are
staying at her house. But if you weren’t, I’d tell you to buy something,” she
said gleefully, making a face at me as we walked over to the girls clothing,
picking up the shimmery fabrics and running our
fingers over them. “Are you going to buy a new bathing suit for hanging in the
pool with Taylor?”
“Of
course I am. What girl wouldn’t?” I asked simply, rolling my eyes as we walked
through the small, heavily packed, store.
“Point,”
she stated simply, her tiny one-word phrase enough of an understanding between
us as we walked out of the store. Today’s mission was sexy clothes and
something special for Taylor. Something that wouldn’t lend his mother the
disposition of throwing me out of her house.
“Hmm…
let’s go to Beauty Jungle,” I told her as we approached the store, tugging on
her arm as we entered the place, the heavy perfumes of the different ointments
and cream nearly overpowering.
“I
hate the smell of this place.”
“Me
too, but we’ll get out soon enough,” I told her, walking back to where they
kept all the various massage creams. I picked up what I was looking for, a
chamomile and peppermint cream. I shot Skye a sly look, picking up one of the
oils that sat on the nearby shelf. “To give your relationship an extra kick,
try these oils,” I read from the sign that hung above the shelf, running my
fingers over the cool glass bottle. “Think I should get something like this and
bring it with me?”
“Naughty,
naughty, naughty,” Skye chided, wagging her finger at me and then laughing as I
paused in my label-reading to shoot her a dirty look. “But I’m sure that’s how
Taylor likes you.”
“Shut
up Skye. Maybe I shouldn’t. It might send the wrong message,” I said quietly,
looking over at my best friend for advice.
I didn’t want to give Taylor any ideas or lead him on in any way.
“Yeah,
you’re probably right. Just stick with the cream,” she answered after a moment
of debating, looking at me. “It just seems like you’ve together so much longer
than a couple weeks.”
“I
know,” I replied wryly, taking out my wallet as I went to the cash register,
paying for the cream and letting Skye drag me off to Victoria’s Secret, even
thought I hadn’t really been serious about buying something.
“C’mon,
get some new pajamas or something. They have some cute stuff here that’s not so
bad,” Skye explained, pulling me over to the comfort-style clothes. I ran my
fingers over a short/tank-top set that was soft under my fingertips.
“I
guess if I got something like this it wouldn’t be so bad.”
“Where
are you sleeping?”
I
paused before answering, realizing that I didn’t know the answer to her
question. “I don’t know, actually,” I finally told her, a black tank top
catching my eye as we walked around, the carpeting crushing under our feet
easily. I shook my head as I looked at the outfit up close. I didn’t want
something that was black. But they did have the same style in a soft gray
cotton, and I sifted through the rack until I found the right size. “What’d you
think of this?”
“I
like it,” she told me, running her fingers over the fabric. “And it’s not so
revealing or anything that you feel embarrassed if you walk around his house in
it.”
“Alright,” I agreed, taking out
my wallet and sighing as I dropped more money into the hands of a cashier. Only
two more days…
“It’s kinda sick, I feel so dirty,
I’m kinda tragic, kinda insecure,
But I
know that I’m only one,
Who
that can fix whatever’s wrong I’m sure…”
“Mom,” I called as I leaned over the
banister to our stairs, the thought that was nagging me having to be answered
now as I prepared to go to sleep directly following dinner, wanting the next
morning to come faster. Then Morgana would be at my
side, in my arms. “Mom!”
“What, Taylor? And stop shouting! Your sister is taking a nap,”
she snapped back as she spoke in a hushed voice, her hands flying to her hips
in that exaggerated motion I was so used to seeing. She glared back at me from
the bottom of the stairs, eyes shooting daggers that threatened to rip apart my
body.
“About Morgana coming down here…
where’s she going to sleep?” I asked tentatively as I pondered the decision on
whether or not to beg to let Morgana stay in my room.
I had, after all, just seriously upset my mother and if looks could kill… well,
you how that saying goes.
“Taylor, I don’t know! We barely have room enough in this house
for all you kids let alone your girlfriend!” she replied, voice weary and tired
as she looked at me, running one hand through her long blond hair.
It was now or never.
“How about she just stays in my room?” I asked quietly, almost
instantly regretting the words. I began to feel heat creep up into my cheeks.
Damn me and my pale complexion; every time I felt even the slightest heat in my
face, I knew that the porcelain color of my skin was flushed to a deep-cherry
color. And everybody would be able to see my flaming face.
“Taylor! Do you honestly think that I’m going to let two
seventeen-year-olds sleep in the same room? Your bedroom no less?” She was all
but laughing in my face as she spoke, an amused grin spreading across her face
as she started to walk away, shaking her head. “Taylor, you must have lost your
mind!”
“Mom, wait!” I called, pounding down the stairs and following
her into the kitchen as she continued to assemble dinner. Idiot, Taylor, idiot,
I told myself as I waited for her to turn around. “Mom, we’re not going to do
anything, please, please, just trust me.”
“Then why is it so important for her to sleep in your room?”
“Because she’s going to be here for the
first time, in a strange house. I won’t be able to sleep knowing she’s in the
next room, alone and lonely. Mom, I just want to be able to hold her. And the
couch isn’t the most comfortable of places to sleep,” I said softly, somewhat
embarrassed to tell my mother these things about Morgana
and my feelings for her. I had already spilled everything once so that she
would let Morgana come down to Tulsa. I really didn’t
want to do it again.
“I’ll have a talk with your father,” she said after a moment,
then handed me a pile of silverware and napkins. “Now go set the table.”
I took what she handed me wordlessly, going into the dining room
and placing everything in its appropriate place.
Dinner passed with a slowness that I swear it never used to
contain. Everyone left, and my parents were left alone. I resisted the urge to
stay by the door and listen to them, fearing that I would be caught. So
instead, I went to my room, flopped back on my bed and turned on the radio.
I popped in a CD that I had had for years, singing along quietly
to the words as I went to my closet and starting searching for clothes to wear
the next morning. One less thing to have to worry about. And something to consume my present time
while my parents deliberated.
I don’t know if it was a good thing or a bad thing, but I had
scarcely gotten through the first couple of songs before I heard my mother
calling my name. I flew from my room down the stairs, seeing her standing
before me. Seeing her waiting for me so patiently, I wasn’t sure if that was a
good bad thing or a bad thing, either.
“In the den,” she said quietly, pointing to the open door. My
dad was sitting inside, lounging comfortably against one of the armchairs. He
looked like he was in a good enough mood, I decided. That was good, because
even if they said no I might be able to plead my case.
I sighed under my breath as I walked into the Lecture Room, as
it had been dubbed by both me and Zac.
Isaac was too perfect to ever get the type of talks the two
younger members of Hanson had all but memorized.
Then I did as I was told, sitting back against the couch
cushions and resisting the urge to defensively cross my arms across my chest. I
wasn’t in trouble this time. At least, I
hoped I wasn’t in trouble. As far as I knew, a request, a simple question,
couldn’t get me in trouble.
But then again, these were parents.
They were known for being unreasonable.
“Taylor, you’re getting older. We understand that you’re getting
older, that you’re growing up,” my father began slowly, folding his hands
together and dropping them down to his lap before continuing, “and that this
thing with Morgana is a serious relationship. We
understand that you honestly care for her, that you are willing to invest time
in this and try to make something work between you. Your mother and I are not
nearly as clueless as you think we are. We know that there is the start of
something with you and Morgana. Remember we’ve been
together since we were your age, Taylor.” He smiled softly, his eyes twinkling
as he looked over at my mother with that strange, loving look that they always
exchanged.
I wanted to gag.
“But in the same way,” my mother began, sighing, “I remember
what it was like to be seventeen. I remember what it is to sneak around so your
parents don’t find out what you’re doing. I know that whatever we try and stop
you from doing, you’re going to do it anyway. There really isn’t any way for us
to prevent you if you’re determined to do something.
“Taylor, we’re letting Morgana stay in
your room,” she told me, looking at me carefully before she continued in her
little lecture. “You’re responsible. You know what’s right and what’s wrong. I
just hope you remember all of it when you find yourself and Morgana,”
“Ok, Mom, I get the point!” I interrupted suddenly, really not
wanting to hear my mother try and find some delicate, nice way to say when me
and my girlfriend were making out. “Thank you. I swear, I’m going to be
perfect. And so is Ana.” I grinned broadly, racing from the room and throwing
myself onto my bed and reaching for the phone.
“Hey, guess what my mom said?” I asked her after she had picked
up the phone, sounding half asleep and disconnected.
“What?”
“You don’t have to sleep on the couch!” I told her, grinning
broadly as I flopped back on my bed, the same bed that she would be sleeping in
with me the next night.
“That’s always a good thing,” she agreed, laughing quietly and
yawning in my ear. “But look, Tay, I was practically asleep. And the sooner I
go to bed, the faster tomorrow comes. I’ll see you tomorrow, alright?”
“Alright,” I replied
quietly, a grin spreading across my face as her words sank in. I was going to
see her tomorrow, after almost two weeks of phone conversations and heart-wrenching
pain.
So I went to sleep. And surprisingly, my body actually
cooperated with me and allowed me to drift into sleep’s sweet oblivion.
I was up at six AM all on my own. No alarm clock for this
caffeine kid.
When I got out of the shower, I carefully toweled off, singing
under my breath to the words of a bittersweet song that I loved more than any
other, “And I don’t want the world to see me, cause I don’t think that they’d
understand. When everything’s made to be broken, I just want you to know who I
am….”
I had already laid out the clothes I was going to wear, so it
was easy enough to pull my black tank top over my head, throw on a long sleeved
shirt on over it, un-buttoned, and slip on the loose khakis. I found my sandals
in the depth of my closet, slipping them onto my feet as I shuffled into the
bathroom to hang up the wet towels. I loved having my own bathroom, now that we
were in the “new” house.
Standing before the mirror, the steam having finally dissipated
from the reflective glass, I peered back at my own reflection. Morgana’s silver cross hung from my neck, the delicate
chain falling beneath the stretchy fabric of my shirt and I pulled it out,
wanting the world to see what was now my only possession that I truly would be
in pieces if I lost it. Not any of my musical equipment, not my laptop with all
my song lyrics and poetry on it. Just Morgana’s
cross. My cross…
I took out a pleasant smelling cologne from the cabinet beside
the mirror, dabbing a trace amount of it behind my ears like I had once been
told to by a girl in LA. She had said that it was just right if I put it there,
because no girl wants to taste cologne when she kisses a guy’s neck. But she
does like to smell it…
The earring that hung from my left ear was tugged at painfully
as I accidentally caught it in my hair, my features contorting in pain as the
sensitive skin was yanked sharply. “Shit,” I muttered, carefully pulling my
hair away from my ear. That hurt.
I grinned back into the mirror as I looked at my hair, still
damp and messily strewn over my head. I shook from side to side, letting my
blond locks spill haphazardly over my head before looking back into the mirror.
Perfect. The car drive to the airport would only serve to make it messier. Just
the way I knew Morgana liked it.
Humming to myself, I picked up my sunglasses from my desk and
deposited them carefully on my head, as to not scratch the glass. Damned things
were expensive. I put on my watch, a Fossil that had endured many surfing
trips.
“Car keys, car keys,” I muttered under my breath, patting down
the pockets of my pants as I looked around the room for the keys.
At least my room was pretty much clean for once, with all the
dirty clothes in a mound one corner. I carefully sent my clothes from the
previous night into the pile, grinning as I thought of how I had already made
myself impose a change on my sleeping attire. I had taken to sleeping naked a
while ago, but I kind of had to change that little habit. Not that I would have minded. But I was sure that
Morgana would.
There they were! Damned things always disappeared when I was
looking for them. And then there they were, on the floor glittering in the
early morning sun. Looking at my watch, I grinned at the fact that my shower
had been a long one. Made the time go by faster. I had just enough time to go
run a few errands and get to the airport for Morgana’s
ten AM arrival.
I took a bottle of water from the fridge as I walked out of the
house, slamming my car door loudly behind me, happy I had left the top down
after cruising around town with Kira the day before.
Mindless of the quiet street and early hour, I turned the radio on to the local
rock station, jerking the knob hard to the right as I started down the street.
Tulsa was one of those little-big cities. Everyone knows
everyone, but Tulsa’s huge. We’ve got a lot of shit that nobody thinks we do.
Including a florist open at nine o’clock on a Thursday morning, where one
Taylor Hanson could purchase a single blood-red rose.
When I got there, I was careful to allow my hair to cover much
of my face, to let my sunglasses hide my revealing eyes from the teenagers that
worked at the airport during the summer. I walked slowly, the rose held in one
hand, the other shoved into my pocket as I made my way through the familiar
setting to the gate where Morgana’s flight came in.
The first trickle of people had just began when I caught sight
of the gate number looming ahead, the throng of people waiting beside it.
Instead of advancing to the gate itself, I stood to the side and waited.
I saw her before she saw me, delicate features crumpling in
dismay as she broke free of the crowd, looking over her shoulder, trying to
find me. She was so innocent, so angelic.
Her breath was shaky as I heard her advancing, probably trying
to hold back tears as she trudged on. I let her walk passed me before I came up
from behind, draping my arms over her shoulders, the rose petals falling just
under her nose as I kissed her neck softly. “Hey, Ana.”
“Taylor!” she cried, whipping around to face me and throwing her
arms around me tightly. She pulled back after a moment, her eyes eagerly
searching my face as she looked at me, laughing happily in relief.
“You actually thought I forgot?” I asked teasingly as I laced my
arm around her waist and brought her to me, wanting nothing more than to fold
her in my arms and kiss her with all the passion I had missed from my life for
the past two weeks. But I couldn’t. This was an airport.
“I don’t know. I just freaked. But I’m happy to be here! I
missed you,” she confessed as we went to retrieve her bag. I smiled in reply,
taking her hand and kissing her fingertips gently without saying a word. I
didn’t have to. I was just ecstatic to have her back.
It didn’t take us long to grab her luggage and get back to my
car. I easily swung her bag into the backseat, but grabbed her arm as she went
to open the door, now able to take her in my arms guilt-free. I nuzzled my
mouth against her soft neck, happy to hear her soft giggles in my ear as I
inched my hands under the back of her shirt and tickled her lightly. “I missed
you more than anything,” I whispered in her ear, holding her against me. The
gentle pressure of her body against mine was delicious.
Especially considering the way I was leaning against the car,
the way her body leaned into mine. Absolutely delicious.
“I know, baby,” she replied gently, reaching one of her hands to
my lips, letting her fingers trail over them lazily. I knew she wanted me to
kiss her. I could see it in her eyes, the craving for the feeling of her mouth
and mine, pressed together as one. But I let her make the first move. I let her
raise her mouth to mine slowly, to explore with her lips what she already knew
so well.
She gripped a handful of my shirt in her hands as she leaned
against me more heavily, my hands that sat so low on her hips tightening
ever-so-gently. I kissed her slowly, lingering at her mouth for a moment before
going on to her cheek, to her neck. I wanted her so badly in that moment that I
had no idea what I was thinking anymore. I reached around her shirt, started to
inch my hands up her stomach.
“Taylor,” she started, shooing my hands away and moving away
from me. She gave me a somewhat embarrassed grin, straightening her shirt. “No.
We’re in a parking lot.”
“I’m sorry,” I apologized quickly, wanting to give myself the
good slap I knew I deserved for my actions. Christ, Taylor, I told myself as I
settled into the driver’s seat of the car once again, You’re being dumb. She
was raped, asshole. You’re not going to fuck her over like you’ve fucked so
many other girls.
But even as I told myself this and took her hand in my own,
kissed her open palm lightly just so I could watch her giggle with delight, her
face flush with pleasure at my simple gesture, I was lost in my own perverted
thoughts. I wanted nothing more than to fuck her right then, to take her to me,
to hold her body against mine and feel her soft flesh against my own body. I
wanted to hold her against my bed, if nothing more than to see her sweaty hair
spilling back onto my pillows.
But the only thing that these thoughts earned was a sore crotch
and the paranoia of Morgana noticing the way that my
pants seemed to be tighter than they were before. Dammit,
Taylor, I thought sourly as I looked over at her, silently driving through the
streets of Tulsa back to my own home, stop it with this shit.
We were back at my house by noon, the rest of my family except
for Isaac now awake and stumbling around the house. Nope, no stumbling for me.
I’d taken my big ol’ cup of black coffee with me that
morning before I’d left.
I led her into my room before I brought her to all the people in
the family, several of whom I just assumed were still asleep judging from their
appearance. After placing her bag on the floor near the bathroom door, I pulled
her into my arms as I sank down on the mattress of my bed, letting her cuddle
up against me as we lay together.
“I love you baby,” she whispered softly, raising herself on her
elbows. She looked deep into the depths of my eyes as she gazed at me with eyes
expressing all of the love she had confessed.
“I love you, too,” I whispered back, kissing the top of her
forehead softly. I had missed her, I really had. Missed her with a longing that
I still felt for some reason I just couldn’t explain. I smiled lightly to
myself as she pulled her own body up so that her mouth was close to mine once
again and she folded her arms around me. I let my hands wander her body for a
moment, finally coming to a rest on the soft curve of her back easing down to her
hips. She had such soft curves to her body, such a feminine shape. I loved that
about her. She had a shape, where most girls starved themselves to the point
where they had none of the gentle curves of a healthy figure; they were flat
boards with no figure.
But not my wonderful, beautiful, Morgana.
“You’re beautiful,” I told her as the thoughts floated around in
my mind. I never had told my old ‘girlfriends’ that. I never told them how
beautiful they were. Because none of them had ever been beautiful, both inside
and out, and therefore they didn’t possess the true beauty worthy of such a
loving statement. “You’re so, so beautiful.”
Her face flushed lightly with a hint of a blush as she looked at
me, delighted, yet embarrassed as she curled her arms around my chest and
rested her cheek against my body. “Thank you,” she whispered back, closing her
eyes lightly as she clung to me and I heard the hint of sorrow in her voice as
she spoke.
“Morgana, you don’t have to answer me
if you don’t want to, but what happened with that Matt guy? I mean, you said he
raped you, yeah, I get that, but…” I stopped. I was being stupid. Why the hell
was I bringing this up now? Did I really want to kill my perfect week with her
now? Already?
But to my surprise, she just looked over at me for a moment,
swallowed a gulp of air and started to talk in that quiet voice of hers I loved
to listen to. “He took me out on a date, just a normal date. We went down to
the beach at sunset and he just didn’t stop when I wanted to.”
“I should’ve kept my mouth shut. We don’t have to talk about
this,” I quickly assured her as I paused, taking her hand and weaving my
fingers through hers as she looked at me with glazed eyes. Christ, I was making
her cry again…
“Taylor, I don’t mind. Just hold me. I just want to be held,”
she whispered, looking at me with pained eyes. “I just want you to hold me…”
I sighed softly, kissing her cheek once again and letting my
body slide further down so I lay beside her, holding her tightly in my arms as
I kissed her neck softly, her exposed collarbones. I was so in love in that
moment that even though her tears did indeed spill over onto my shoulder, I
just kissed her and soothed her. I didn’t get upset, I didn’t push her away
from me or vow to bury this guy if I ever saw him. I just held her and told her
I loved her and she was beautiful.
“It’s not easy to hide,
All this damage inside,
I’ll carry it with me,
Until I’m not
alive…”
I
loved his room. I loved the way that that faint scent of him lingered in the
room, his delicious cologne drifting around on the air. I loved the smell of
his hair, his skin. I loved the soft stroking of his hands against my back. I
loved everything.
Late
at night, sitting on the floor under his window, with his head on my shoulder
and his arm around my waist, I was more content than I found it humanly
possible to be. Isaac was in his own room now, with his own girlfriend. I
wondered if they were doing the same thing I was with Taylor, merely sitting
together. Or if they were doing more…
I wanted
to cry again as that thought came to mind. Because with it came the thought of
the fact that the plans for the night were for me to sleep in Taylor’s bed.
With him. In one way, I was thrilled. No hard couch for me.
But
in the other, I was disgusted and disturbed by the thought.
I
really didn’t want to sleep in his bed, the more and more I thought about it.
God only knew how many girls he’d been with in that bed, God only knew how many
other girls had slept beside him with their sweaty hair spilling onto the
pillows, with his arms around them and his sweat mixed with theirs. I didn’t
want to be in the same place as all those other girls. God only knew if the
sheets had been washed since the last time he’d…
“What’re
you thinking about?” Taylor asked quietly, and I realized that he was watching
me now, staring at me as I lost myself in my thoughts. He kissed my half closed
eyelids gently, touched my soft cheek. Waited for an answer.
I
sighed before replying. I had to tell him. I didn’t want to feel the way I was
feeling right then all week. I had to tell him. I knew he was going to be
upset. I just knew he was. But I couldn’t sleep in the same bed as all those
girls. I just couldn’t.
“Taylor,
how many girls have slept in that bed with you?”
He
was dead silent after I had asked my question. I refused to look at him. I
didn’t see him until he’d stood up and walked across his room to the opposite
wall, leaning his head against it and pressing his palms to his temples before
turning and looking at me. “Morgana, I don’t know how
much of what I’m about to tell you you’re going to believe, but I’m going to
say it anyway.” He looked at me as he came back to me, tugged on my arm to pull
me up.
I
sat beside him and then allowed him to pull me onto his lap, sighing gently as
I fell into his arms. Then he began to speak again.
“Ana,
all those girls, they were never in this room. Never. I refused to let
them in to my life. They didn’t mean anything to me. And every night of my life
that I have slept in my bed in this house, it was alone. I didn’t let them see
any of me. And even though it seems incredibly strange considering the
circumstances, I don’t let people get close to me. I don’t let them in my room,
and, most of all, I don’t let them sleep beside me. Never have I ever slept
beside a girl. I didn’t stay with them. I was the asshole who just fucked them
and got the hell out. I never trusted anyone enough to sleep beside them.
“I
get that there’s this big difference between actually being intimate with
someone or having sex. I’ve had the sex. But the closest thing I’ve had to
intimacy has been with you,” he said softly, hands tracing soft circles over my
back. I knew he held me against him because he didn’t want me to see the
glimmer of tears that his eyes hid. But I felt the dampness of the salty water
that flowed from his eyes as it drizzled down his cheeks to my back.
My
suspicion of being the first girl he’d let get through his tough, cold exterior
was finally confirmed as his soft tears that escaped ripped loose to a tempest
that I feared in its strength.
“God, I love you so much,” he
whimpered in my ear as I held him to me, keeping silent as I rubbed his back
lightly, the lights of his room dim and soft. I didn’t care that he had cried,
at least, cared in the sense of seeing him as weak. I was happy that he had
shed his tears before me. I didn’t know why. But seeing his tears, feeling them
against me, struck a chord I never thought I was capable of having.
“Baby,” I whispered as I spoke,
touching his cheek softly, “ You know I love you.” At the words, the tears
freshened themselves and started all over again. I got the feeling from those
tears, tears of anguish and intense emotion, that it had been a long time since
he had cried, truly cried and let all of his tears run until there was nothing
left to cry.
I sat with him, held him in my
arms, as it got darker and darker. I thought he had finally gained composure
over himself as I stood, walking to the bathroom and replacing my jeans and
T-shirt with the soft gray cotton pajamas from Victoria’s Secret. When I
came back into his bedroom, he had changed into a pair of sweatpants and sat
numbly on the edge of his bed, fingering the silver cross around his neck.
Looking up at me, he smiled sadly as I reached his side and flipped the switch
for the light beside his bed and lay beside him.
But as I curled into his arms, he
laid his head against my breast, not a perverted, sick act, but one of seeking
comfort in the softness of my body, in the thumping of my heart. Once again, I
felt his shoulders shaking under my touch, and I kissed him softly, his
forehead hot under my lips. He exhausted himself, crying, and finally fell
against me once more, his arms around me and his mouth buried against my neck.
“I love you,” I whispered softly, kissing his lips lightly as his eyes closed
and he gave me a small hug.
“I love you too. ‘Night,” he
whispered back, not even opening his eyes as he sighed softly and held me
tighter. I was already half-asleep as he rubbed my arm gently with his thumb, a
soft, fluid motion. And I soon was fast asleep beside him, my arm curled around
his with out fingers intertwined.
When I woke up in the morning, it
was with my cheek against Taylor’s bare chest, my lips pressed against his
soft, smooth skin. I kissed him softly and was delighted to hear his low laugh,
that quiet laugh from deep in his throat. I turned my head, looking at his
wonderfully clear eyes as he looked at me. Apparently he’d been watching me.
“Morning, baby,” I whispered softly, curling closer to him and moving a little
further up his body.
“Morning yourself,” he muttered
back, snuggling down under the blankets and pulling me to him so my cheek
rested on his shoulder. “I like having you to wake up to. And you’re comfy,” he
told me as he kissed my shoulder softly.
“Mm, you too,” I whispered back,
cuddling closer to him. If that was at all possible. I let my hand wander down
his stomach, playing with the hem of his pants as I watched my own hand play
with the fabric. I heard the catch in his breath as I toyed with the hem some
more.
I grinned slyly to myself as I
continued to play with the soft cotton, letting my fingertips slide just under
the fabric and then back to his previously bared skin. And I had to grin to
myself as I noticed the fabric becoming tighter.
Looking up at his eyes, I found
them half closed and his lips barely parted with a content grin spread across
his lips. Letting a devilish grin spread across my own face, I lifted the
blankets up and settled with them covering me completely. I kissed his stomach
lightly, my tongue snaking out against his warm skin. Even in the darkness that
the blankets held over me, I could see how tight his clothing had become over
his crotch with my soft kisses dropping lower and lower, one hand on his hips
playing with the hem of his sweat pants.
A rush of cold air hit me as
Taylor pushed the blankets back, having pulled himself onto his elbows and
looking at me with his eyes burning hotly. I smiled innocently at him, letting
my eyes hold his own as I lowered my mouth back against his skin, using my
teeth and tongue now to toy with the cotton covering his skin. I let my
fingertips slide down his leg, and then back up the inside of his thigh,
running between his legs and then back again as I continued to drop kisses
across his stomach.
I stopped my playful caresses as
I moved up his body. With one leg on either side of his body, the hardness of
his crotch pressed tightly against my own body, I brought my mouth to his,
kissing him softly, letting him pull me into the passion I knew he was
searching for. His hands wandered across my body as we continued to kiss, my
hands tangled in his soft hair. I picked up the subtle movement of his hips
against mine and mimicked it, biting my lip to keep from moaning.
When we had finally pulled
ourselves out of the flood of hormones, Taylor disappeared into his bathroom.
“You can go take a shower if you want,” he said softly when he exited a few
moments later. He walked over, folding me into his arms. I received a soft kiss
from him, this one gentle and loving, as he rumpled my hair affectionately.
“Just don’t use all the hot water!”
“Alright,” I promised, reaching
for my bag and removing clothes for the day, carefully hiding my outfit from
Taylor. After I had gotten into the bathroom, I turned, locking the door behind
me as I dropped the clothes onto the toilet seat. Turning on the water, I
looked into the mirror that rested over the sink.
My cheeks were flushed a light
pink, my hair strewn crazily over my head, hanging in my eyes as I smiled back.
I sighed, beginning to undress as I turned the water to the shower setting
after testing the water.
After I had finished my
delightful shower, I quickly toweled off and dressed easily in my shorts and
halter-top. Tied my wet hair back, re-hung the wet towels, scooped up my dirty
clothes, and returned to Taylor’s room.
He was sitting on his bed with a
notebook, puzzling over something I couldn’t see. Song lyrics perhaps. He
grinned as I walked in, throwing the notebook and pencil down and scooping me
into his arms. I was set back down only after we exchanged a sweet kiss, feet
easing onto the soft carpeting. He sighed, beginning to speak, “Morgana, look, about earlier, I shouldn’t have-“
“Shh…”I
whispered quietly, placing one finger against his lips. “I liked it as much as
you did.”
He grinned easily in reply,
cheeks flushing lightly as I reached my hand around his back and let my fingers
slide just inside his boxers, pulling myself closer. He leaned down and kissed
me again, then pulled back with a delicious grin. “I’m going to go shower.”
“Alright,” I replied as he walked
into his bathroom, grabbing the stack of clothes he had placed on his dresser
before shutting the door. I shook my head silently to myself, curiosity getting
the better of me as I walked over to his bed and picked up the notebook he had
been holding. To my surprise, it wasn’t a notebook, but a sketchbook, with his
loopy signature in the bottom corner of the drawing. While I had showered, he
had drawn me, sleeping soundly with a small smile curled onto my lips. Dropping
the sketchbook back to the bed, I wondered if perhaps he had intentionally left
the book there for me to see or if he had carelessly left it out and I had just
seen something I wasn’t supposed to have seen.
As I was carefully spreading
lotion over my arms,
(such
sharp lines with that burgundy that spurted as from a fountain, an endless
flood)
I heard a soft knock on Taylor’s
door. I called to whomever was there, and was somewhat surprised to find Isaac
now standing just inside the door. “Tay’s showering,”
I told him as he stepped into the room, his eyes searching for his brother.
“Oh,” he replied, sitting down in
Taylor’s chair in the corner of his room beside one of the windows. “I guess
I’ll just have to wait. So what’d you two do last night?
“Hmm… what’d you and Rebecca do
last night?” I asked, a slight challenge in my voice.
“Alright, alright. Fair enough.”
He grinned back easily as he replied, raising an eyebrow at my quick retort.
“But then again, Rebecca didn’t spend the night. She went home just after
midnight.”
“ We just talked, mostly. Your
brother’s a really good guy. He’s just… very secretive about his emotions,” I
confided softly as I settled back on Taylor’s bed, looking over at Isaac. In
the bathroom, the shower was still running.
“Lately, I swear he trusts you
more than either Zac or I,” Isaac replied quietly after a moment, smiling at me
as he looked towards the bathroom door. “Taylor’s used to hiding everything
from the world. He doesn’t want anyone to think he’s weak, so he doesn’t let
anyone see anything but what they want to. I think he’s realized that
you can see through his little façade.”
“Thanks Ike.”
“No prob. I just gotta talk to Taylor about something and then you two can
go back to your little sexual fantasies,” Isaac told me, motioning to the
closed bathroom door. There was something in his voice though, something I
couldn’t quite understand, but that I did in fact pick up. I don’t think it was
meant for me to pick up, but I was a writer. I wrote about those little tiny
details. And through my writing I had done a lot of careful ‘research’,
training myself to read the voices, the gestures, the looks, just about
everything about a person. Because I had been carefully, almost obsessively
making myself work on the skill for four years, by that point I was one of the
best.
“Um,” Isaac’s quite voice broke
into my thoughts as I looked up, slightly startled to discover that I had zoned
out, “could you leave for a minute? It’s kinda
something that I need to talk to Taylor alone about.”
“Sure. I got it. Family stuff,” I
replied easily, grabbing my laptop and walking down to sit beside the pool,
slightly puzzled over the secrecy that I had never from Taylor known before.
“Suddenly the sky is falling,
Could it be it’s too late for me,
If I never said I’m sorry, then I’m wrong, I’m wrong
Then I hear my spirit calling
Wondering if she’s longing for me,
And then I know that I can’t live without her...”
I never wanted to hurt her, I swear I didn’t. I never wanted to
hurt her. Never…
I walked slowly out of the room, those odd cries still echoing
sharply in my mind. Damn, I wished I could erase those cries, her high-pitched
cries.
I never wanted to hurt her, I swear I didn’t. I never wanted to
hurt her. Never…
“Make it stop,” I whispered softly to myself, sinking down
beside the door. I could hear her
crying; there was that rich burgundy blood everywhere.
I never wanted to hurt her, I swear I didn’t. I never wanted to
hurt her. Never…
Please stop, please stop, I begged silently, the tears streaking
down my cheeks. And then all was quite as I walked back into the room, the
tears leaving a trail as they slid down my black T-shirt. She was gone now, but
there was blood everywhere.
I never wanted to hurt her, I swear I didn’t. I never wanted to
hurt her. Never…
I snapped my eyes open
suddenly, looking around the dark room. Beside me, Morgana
slept easily, a small smile curled onto her lips. Her wrist lay across my
stomach, skin warm beneath the sheets. I drew in a shaky breath, pulling in the
delicious scent of her heavenly hair. There was a light sheen of sweat covering
my body.
God, I had tried so
hard to forget about that. Why did that dream come back now? Why, of all times,
did it have to be when Morgana was with me?
I drew in another
shaky breath, kissing Morgana’s forehead softly as
she slept, her deep and even breathing weighing down my eyelids once again as I
snuggled closer to her.
I never wanted to hurt her, I swear I didn’t. I never wanted to
hurt her. Never…
I walked slowly out of the room, those odd cries still echoing
sharply in my mind. Damn, I wished I could erase those cries, her high-pitched
cries.
I never wanted to hurt her, I swear I didn’t. I never wanted to
hurt her. Never…
“Make it stop,” I whispered softly to myself, sinking down
beside the door. I could hear her crying; there was that rich burgundy blood
everywhere.
I never wanted to hurt her, I swear I didn’t. I never wanted to
hurt her. Never…
Please stop, please stop, I begged silently, the tears streaking
down my cheeks. And then all was quite as I walked back into the room, the
tears leaving a trail as they slid down my black T-shirt. She was gone now, and
there was so much blood. It was everywhere, streaking the walls, the carpet…
I never wanted to hurt her, I swear I didn’t. I never wanted to
hurt her. Never…
“Taylor!” Morgana shook me again as I fluttered my eyes open and
looked deep into the brilliant green of her own eyes. “You’re shaking!”
“Bad dream,” I
whispered softly, smiling a forced smile at her as I let my eyes slide shut
once again to the darkness of my room, the clock’s glowing red numbers telling
me the time. 3:33.
“Must have been pretty
bad. I thought that you were choking or something because of the way you were
breathing. What happened?” she asked quietly, her soft innocent and caring
voice brushing against my skin.
Or something, I
thought with a twisted smirk I knew she wouldn’t see in the darkness. “I don’t wanna talk about it,” I instead whispered back softly,
kissing her cheek and letting my eyes slide shut again. “Go back to sleep.”
“Alright, baby. I love
you,” she said softly, curling closer to me with one arm over my waist and her
cheek pressed to my chest.
“I love you too,” I
returned quietly as she sighed. It took perhaps five minutes for her breathing
to fall back into its pattern of sleep.
(Another sleepless night again, hotel rooms my only friend and
friends like that just don’t add up, to anything.)
The lyric of a Staind song filtered into my mind as I lay awake, not
daring to close my eyes and repeat the dream for a third time that night. No
thanks.
So instead I just lay
there wide awake until Morgana woke up once again
around nine, my fingers stroking her skin softly so that I had something to
keep myself from falling asleep again.
“You didn’t sleep, did
you?” she asked quietly, peering at my face, looking at the darkened flesh
under my blood-shot eyes.
“No,” I replied
quietly, kissing her cheek softly and pulling her closer to me. Her body was so
warm.
“Are you sure you
don’t want to tell me about your dream?”
“Yeah,” I answered
quickly. Perhaps a little too quickly for her taste, but oh well. I wasn’t
going to tell her about my dream.
“Alright, baby.” She kissed
me softly, wrapping her arms around my neck as her tongue probed my mouth
gently. She grinned as she pulled back, throwing the blankets back suddenly.
“I’m going to go swim some laps in the pool. You, oh wonderful boyfriend of mine, why don’t you come down and
sit in the sun? Maybe you’ll fall asleep outside. It’s nice and warm.”
“Maybe,” I told her
softly as she took a bathing suit and walked into the bathroom. “Or maybe I’ll
just never sleep again,” I whispered softly to myself before slowly rising and
putting on a pair of loose khaki pants over my boxers. I took one of my
wife-beater tank tops, throwing it on inside-out as was my custom. Then I
slowly followed Morgana down to the pool and
pretended to sleep while she swam her laps.
* * *
“Taylor!” Morgana’s
happy voice rang out across the lawn as I threw a Frisbee her way. Of course,
it went sailing directly towards the pool. “I’m going to get hurt if you keep
doing that!”
(I never wanted to hurt her, I swear I didn’t. I never wanted to
hurt her. Never…)
Dammit, now
the dream was haunting me in the light of day. I hadn’t slept peacefully since
the dream came back; every night it was the same thing. I slept little, my
exhaustion finally bringing me to my knees as I collapsed with fatigue on my
bed. Morgana continued to press me on the subject of
my dreams, but I didn’t tell her anything.
(Never… Never… Never…)
“I’ll get it!” I
called back to her, stooping down to the pool and fetching the Frisbee from the
cool waters. But instead of throwing it back to Morgana,
I let it drop back down to my feet. I looked back at her, carefully searching
the yard and windows for a sign of Rebecca or Isaac. Or Zac. Seeing none of the
above and knowing everyone else was gone from the house, I scooped up my wondrous
girlfriend into my arms and walked towards the woods, right up to what appeared
to be nothing more than a dense bunch of brush.
“Taylor, why did you
bring me over to brush?” she asked, her voice a bit crossly, her arms entwining
themselves over her chest as she looked at me.
“Because,” I started,
swinging her into my arms and stepping carefully into the bushes. They scraped
lightly at my arms as I walked through them and then set Morgana
back down on her feet on the dirt path. “It’s not just brush.”
“Where does this path
go?” she asked quietly as I took her hand and started to walk along the
well-worn dirt, not caring that my bare feet were quickly becoming a deep
brown.
“You’ll see,” I
whispered back, going behind her now and wrapping my arms around her waist. I
kissed her neck softly, bending my neck as I pressed my lips softly against her
skin.
She sighed contently,
leaning against me as we carefully walked along the path, worn down by my own
feet and only my own feet, eventually coming to what I wanted her to see.
Brushing back the
branch of a tree that I knew would cruelly slap her in the face if I didn’t, I
led her out into the clearing. Living up in the hills that surrounded Tulsa and
its otherwise mostly flat areas, the path came out on the top, overlooking the
city from one corner of the eye, and the Arkansas River valley spread directly
below. In the other corner of the eye, the small Jones Airport lay, steel birds
rising into the sky.
There had yet to be
any development in that area of the hill, and I secretly hoped that there was
none. After all, this was the one truly private place I had left, where the
fans couldn’t find me, where my family couldn’t find me. No one had ever known
about this place except for me, myself and I.
“This is really nice,”
Morgana said softly in my ear as I bent down to catch
her soft voice.
“I know. I come up
here a lot. Nobody knows about it,” I told her quietly as I sat down on the
grassy bank, pulling her onto my lap as I leaned against the tree I normally would
climb high into and just look out over the glittering reflections of the river,
catch the flight of occasional plane.
“What’d you do up
here?”
“Think, mostly. I
climb up into this tree,” I said softly, gesturing to the tree behind us, “and
just look out at Tulsa and the river. Looking at this place, that’s all I have
left. And sometimes I wonder if the city’s turned on me too.”
“You’ve got me,” she
replied firmly, letting her hand wander across my cheek and then down to my
lips. She kissed me once, softly and slowly, then stood. “C’mon, help me into
the tree. It looks like it can support both of us.”
I grinned in reply. A
chick that wanted to climb up into the dirty, grimy tree branches with me? I
was seriously beginning to wonder if I had found the perfect girlfriend.
“Ouch!” she yelped
quietly as she scratched her arm against the bark as she pulled herself onto
the first branch.
(to hurt her, to hurt her, to hurt her…)
“Careful!” I called up
as she began to easily scale the tree, now that she was in the branches.
Shaking my head when bark rained down, I let my bare feet, toughened by years
of just such afternoons, swing my body into the branches after her.
She climbed high,
higher than I thought she would. When she finally stopped, it was at one of the
last branches that was thick enough to support out combined body weight, but it
was high enough so that we could enjoy the view of Tulsa I had learned to never
take for granted.
She sighed softly as
she leaned against me, eyes sliding half-shut as she took her fingers and wound
them around my own. I grinned to myself, leaning forward to drop a delicate
kiss on her exposed neck.
A smile had graced the
gentle curves of her mouth and she let her eyes open fully as she looked back
at me. She let them slide shut again as she snuggled closer to me, her legs
dangling freely over the branches, the smooth tanned legs that her cutoffs
exposed delicious.
We stayed there for
quite some time, relishing the fact that we were together, and that there was
no one else there to tell us what to do. We had only each other to worry about
and there was nothing more important in those moments that each other. I was
quite alright with that, and judging from Morgana’s
content smile, her delighted sighs, so was she.
It was around four,
maybe four-thirty when I stirred Morgana from her
restful state. “We should go back now before Mom and Dad get home. Nobody knows
about this place. Not Isaac, not Zac. Only you and me. And I want to keep it
that way.” I kissed her cheek softly as she reached one hand to tuck away a
stray strand of hair that had fallen free from the messy style I always kept
it.
“Alright,” she said
softly, dropping down to the branch below. I waited until I was sure she was at
the bottom so that I wouldn’t rain bark down onto her, and then carefully
climbed down, my bare feet agile from much experience. I took her hand into my
own, kissed her palm, and led her back through the woods to my own house.
When we got back,
thankfully, there was no one outside, no one at any of the windows. My secret
was safe once again.
Seeing the previously
rejected Frisbee on the ground, I picked it up and threw it lazily at Morgana. She caught it and grinned devilishly back at me.
Dropped the Frisbee into the center of the pool and looked at me.
“Morgana!”
I cried in mock-dismay. “Now, look what you’ve done.”
“I’m sorry,” she
whispered softly as she approached me, arms draping around my neck as she
kissed my cheek softly. Then a small frown came over her pretty little mouth.
“You haven’t been sleeping, have you?”
“No,” I replied
quietly, burying my head in her shoulder. “I wish I was, but I’m not.”
“Tay, maybe if you
told me about these dreams I could help,” she offered tentatively, soft fingers
falling against my cheek. She planted a gentle kiss on my lips and waited.
“No,” I snapped
roughly, disentangling myself from her and walking inside. After a moment, she
followed, shutting my bedroom door. She sat beside me under the window, laying
my head in her lap as I stretched out.
“Tay,” she began
softly, “baby, I’m not going to make you tell me. But it might make you feel
better if you talked about it. If it’s reoccurring, maybe there’s something in
it that you just haven’t seen yet.”
But I know what it’s
about! I just don’t know how to get rid of it, I thought bitterly as I squeezed
my blurry eyes shut. They always felt so heavy, so very heavy. I just wanted to
sleep because I was so tired, but I couldn’t sleep. The dreams came back.
“Morgana,
it’s complicated.”
“Tay, I’m a writer. I
know about complicated things.” I grinned at that statement. The pieces of her
writing I had been allowed to view were extremely convoluted. Then again, her
answer to the question of whether or not she had ever written fanfic was also quite intricate.
“Alright. In this
dream, there’s a girl. She’s hurt, and I hurt her. There’s blood everywhere,
and I just keep saying that I never meant to hurt her, over and over and over.
And then I go into the room, not my room, just some room, and she’s gone, but
there’s blood everywhere. And all the while, I can hear her cries, these loud,
high-pitched cries,” I revealed, my voice shaking as the terror of the dreams
surged through my body. I knew I was trembling right along with my voice. That
was why Morgana was stroking my arm softly, my side
as I curled up against her. I knew she didn’t understand why this simple dream
scared me so badly. I hoped she never would.
“Why would you keep
having a dream like that?” Her voice was quiet, but I already knew her well
enough to pick up the hint of suspicion, the hint of fear in the back of her
voice.
“I don’t know,” I
whispered back, cuddling against her more closely. I was good at lying; I had
done it so much that I should be quite good at it.
“Alright.” I knew she
didn’t believe me, and I cursed her silently for knowing me that well. How
could I have let her know me that well?
I had always blocked everyone out and she had slipped though the cracks. I had
gotten careless and let her through.
“Taylor, you know I
love you,” she whispered, her words cutting through my thoughts. “I know what
you’re thinking right now. I can see it in your eyes. You think that you’ve let
me see too much. It’s ok. I’m not going to reveal your secrets to the world.”
How the hell did she
know what I was thinking? I looked at her in amazement, breath caught in my
throat. “How…”
“I think you’ve
mistaken me for an idiot.” The words were light, joking as she ran her fingers
over my cheek. “I can see your torture, the guards that you’ve held against the
entire world starting to come back. Please, Tay, please don’t block me out.”
I stared at her,
further amazed at how much she knew. I didn’t understand. This was insane. She
knew too much. But it was comforting in a strange way I couldn’t quite
comprehend.
“I love you,” I said
suddenly, taking her hand and kissing her palms softly. I sat up, pulling her
onto my lap and curling her against me tightly. Outside, the distant rumble of
thunder echoed as the nightly clouds of summer moved in. The first storm that
had hit since Morgana had been in Tulsa.
“Wait’ll
the storm hits,” I whispered softly in her ear as the thoughts occurred to me.
“I bet the power’ll go out, and then we’ll have no
choice but to light candles.” I grinned as she turned to look at me, resisting
the smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.
“You’re bad,” she
whispered back, her fingers going to my hair and playing with it. She leaned
forward, kissing my neck softly. She knew what it did to me when she kissed me
there and I think she did it for just that reason.
I grinned back at her
as she pulled away, hearing my mother’s shout from downstairs. “C’mon, dinner’s
done.” Morgana only shook her head at me, taking the
hand I offered and allowing me to pull her to her feet.
My mom had made
spaghetti, complete with her own homemade sauce that was just heavenly. After
all the restaurants I had ever been to, my mother’s spaghetti sauce was still
the best.
I helped my mother
carry the plates into the kitchen after everyone had finished eating and she
smiled softly at me. “Thanks Tay. Why don’t you and Morgana
go in the other room with Ike and Becca? I’ll take
care of this.”
“Thanks Mom.” I smiled
appreciatively at her, leaning forward and kissing her cheek on impulse. She
smiled back at me, shaking her head softly as I rushed from the room.
I knew she was
wondering what had gotten into me. I also knew that she didn’t wonder long as
she realized that I hadn’t lied when I had poured my heart out that night to
her and my father when I was talking about Morgana.
“And when you
look in my eyes,
Please know my
heart is in your hands,
It’s nothing
that I understand,
But when in your
arms you have complete power over me,
So be gentle if
you please…”
It occurred to me for the first
time as we were walking into the living room: I had been in the Hanson home for
almost two full days, and never actually met Isaac’s girlfriend. She didn’t
come over until after dinner either night, so me and Taylor were already long
gone from the rest of the household.
As we started to walk into the
living room, I noticed Rebecca and Isaac seemed to be deep into some sort of
private conversation. I grabbed Taylor’s arm, tugging lightly, his soft skin
slipping under my fingers. He smiled as he turned to, taking my hand into his
and sliding his fingers into my own.
He was such a blond.
We entered the living room,
Rebecca and Isaac separating almost immediately. Rebecca smiled at us, but it
was forced and fake. I could tell just by the look she shot at Isaac right
before she grinned at me. Taylor flopped down on an arm chair and pulled me
down on his lap. Not expecting it, I fell against him. Hard. And heavily… very
heavily.
“Hey, guys,” he chirped, his arms
draping comfortably around me, his soft fingertips against my stomach. “Anything
interesting going on?”
“No, Taylor,” Isaac replied, his
tone clipped as he looked back at his brother, something not quite right in his
gaze. Silence began to fall over us as the two brothers stared at each other,
Rebecca and I merely fidgeting nervously, wondering what had made Isaac so
upset by Taylor’s innocent question. But we were saved as Diana wondered into
the room.
“Boys, the storm’s coming closer.
I want you to go make sure you’ve got candles and working flashlights in your
rooms. I’m not making any trips to the hospital tonight,” she cautioned, giving
her sons pointed looks as they remained planted in their chairs. “I mean now.”
Isaac and Taylor sighed as they
exchanged dismayed looks, yet rose all the same and tromped up the stairs under
their mother’s watchful gaze. I had to get off Taylor’s lap so he could get up
anyway, so I transferred my butt to the couch next to Rebecca as Diana left.
She smiled softly, shaking her head. “This is their excuse to get us alone in
their rooms with only candlelight. They act all pissed about it in front of
their mother, but I know Isaac loves it when we’ve got candles burning. I’ve
heard Taylor’s...” Rebecca smiled slyly as she looked over at me, her eyes
darting to the stairs momentarily. “I’ve heard a lot about Taylor.”
“Yeah,” I replied uneasily. This
was nothing I wanted to discuss. No, that was quite alright.
“Do you know if it’s all true?”
“Yeah, he told me that he-“
“No,” Rebecca cut me off, a grin
on her face as she looked at me oh-so-slyly. “Have you and Taylor, ya know, have you found out the truth in the rumors about
him?”
“Oh,” I said stupidly, looking at
her with an embarrassed flush creeping up my cheeks, “No, we haven’t.”
“Oh, just wait until you do,” she
told me, her eyes going to the ceiling again, but then her voice became a
little quieter, her voice a little softer. “You do know that he loves you more
than anything else, don’t you?”
“Yeah, I know,” I said, eyes
going back to her face as I felt the blush recede from my pale skin.
“He’s given up a lot of his…
habits, for good, ya know? He’s not going to cheat on
you. I know Taylor pretty well,” Rebecca assured me, putting her hand on my
arm. She heard the footsteps on the stairs right before I did, but snuck in one
last quiet comment. “But you can always talk to me if there’s a problem that
you don’t know how to handle.” I smiled thankfully at her, acknowledging her
soft squeeze on my arm before looking over my shoulder to the stairs. Taylor
appeared a mere second later, cheeks slightly flushed.
“Becca,
Isaac wants you,” he started softly, gesturing over his shoulder as he walked
over to stand in front of us. She only shook her head, grinning, though it
appeared forced, and slipped passed Taylor to the stairs. “And I want you,” Taylor whispered to me as he pulled me to my feet.
The door closed behind us as we
slid inside, his open windows allowing for the faint pitter-patter of the rain
against the patio, the rushing noise of it filtering through the leaves blowing
in the tempestuous breeze. Taylor walked over to the window and closed it
slightly so the breeze didn’t rustle the various papers around his room. Then
he took me into his arms, nuzzling his cheek against mine, arms circling around
me. “I love you,” he whispered, his voice soft velvet whispering against my
cheek. I heard the gentle rumble of distant thunder in the moment of silence
that was held by the warm summer air before I replied with my own echo of the
wonderful sentiment.
“Baby,” I started softly as I lay
back against his pillows, his own weight settling over me. I reached for the
soft tendrils of hair that tickled my skin, brushing it away with my
fingertips. “Are you happy with this?”
“Of course I’m happy.” He sat up
suddenly, taking my hands into his as he sat back on his heels, kneeling over
me. Kissed my fingertips softly as the approaching thunder made the rain begin
to fall more violently against the pavement below the window. “Why wouldn’t I
be?”
“Because I haven’t really been, ya know, putting out.” I looked down at the floor beside
his bed as I felt the muscles in his legs tense, his soft touch on my hands
becoming rougher. But in the near-silence, save for another distant rumble of
thunder and the rain, I finally brought my eyes back to Taylor’s. What I saw
deep inside of them was incredible hurt.
“Ana,” he began, curling his
hands into mine tightly, “I’m not going to say that sex doesn’t matter to me
because I refuse to lie to you. But you not ‘putting out’, as you phrased it,
isn’t an issue. I’m more concerned with never seeing you because we live so far
apart. I’m more concerned with the fact that somebody hurt you so badly that
you still can’t stop thinking about it, that you can’t stop hurting. Right now,
I am insanely happy just to have you in my arms, to be with you, to hold you,”
he said, his voice husky and rough, raw with emotion as he spoke from the
bottom of his heart. “Are you happy?”
“Of course I am,” I replied
instantly, pulling one of the hands that he held to my mouth and kissing his
palm, heavily callused from his dedication to music. A comfortable silence fell
over us as he eased himself back down, laying with his head resting lightly on
my breast. The distant rumbles of thunder had grown louder now, with a strident
crash that caused Taylor’s things on his dresser, to rattle slightly.
“Is this storm going to be bad?”
I asked as I played with the buttons on Taylor’s shirt, the vintage clothing he
loved fitting him perfectly.
“Not too bad. It’ll probably
knock out the power for the night.”
“For the night?” I couldn’t help
but gape slightly at this response and the off-handed tone it was delivered in.
“Yeah.” He gave me a puzzled
look, laughter peeking out from behind those gorgeous baby-blues.
“Oh, it’s just, in Connecticut,
the power hardly ever goes out,” I told him, snuggling closer as another rumble
of thunder crashed through the house. He laughed lightly, a soft noise that
echoed from deep in his throat as he pulled me closer to him, now resting his
head on my shoulder. “You’re cute,” he whispered softly in my ear, kissing my
neck lightly after he had spoken. He got up and pulled out his black lighter
from his jacket pocket and carefully walked around his room, lighting the
candles as the thunder boomed, the rain slamming into the window and roof. I smiled
softly to myself as I recalled Rebecca’s comment about the candles.
“How long have Ike and Rebecca
been together?” I asked curiously as he moved from candle to candle.
“Um, a little over three years.
Didn’t we talk about this in New York?” he replied curiously as he paused in
his lighting of candles to look back at me. Another crash of thunder echoed
through the house and I heard the quiet shriek of a young girl. I guessed it
was Zoë, having been woken from her sleep.
Obviously Taylor heard it too, because
he walked quickly out of his room, tossing the lighter down, and into the room
that was a few doors down the hall. I followed after him, smiling softly to
myself when I saw him pulling Zoë from her crib, cuddling her. Her tears
quieted as he rocked her lightly on his shoulder, kissed her cheek. I could
hear his tranquil voice as he sung quietly, making something up as he went
along, until Zoë had stopped crying. In the dim light from the hall, I could
see her wide blue eyes so much like her older brother’s staring back at me. I
was startled from my dazed state by Diana as she brushed passed me and quietly
took Zoë from Taylor’s arms. She smiled at him thankfully, taking her young
daughter and sitting with her in a rocking chair that looked as if she might
have sat in that very same chair rocking Isaac on a dark and stormy night.
Taylor blushed burgundy as he
walked silently into his own room and closed the door softly behind him. “Not
one word,” he said to me, picking up his lighter from his bed and continuing to
light the candles, causing a warm, glowing effect.
“Taylor, why not? That was so
sweet of you! You’re great with her.” Standing up, I walked over to him. The
last candle lit, I took the lighter and wrapped my arms around his waist.
“Baby, it’s nothing to be upset over.”
“Ana,” he whined softly, the
blush rising to his cheeks once again as he held me, leaning his head on my
shoulder. He kissed my cheek softly, walking over to his bed and laying down.
Pulled me down, but caught me before I fell heavily to the mattress, instead
easing me down with his strengthened arms.
I giggled lightly as he ran the
tips of his fingers around my waist, then over the back of my neck. Then I
jumped as thunder clattered through the air again, the crackling of the near-by
lightning chasing the peal. I heard Taylor’s low laughter as the thunder faded
away and I looked back at him with a soft pout.
“Tay!” I whined as he continued
to laugh lightly, his hands playing with my hair as it fell over my shoulders.
“You’re so cute,” he whispered
softly, tracing the curve of my cheek out to the top of my ear. I was pulled
closer to him as he kissed me softly, his tongue snaking out to mingle with
mine. His breath was warm on my skin, his arms comforting as the room was lit up
suddenly by another flash of lightning, this one crackling louder than the
last. This time I just snuggled closer to Taylor, his strong arms around my
shoulders. He paused in his kisses for a moment and rolled over so that he lay
sprawled over me, his gentle touch tickling me lightly and bringing a smile to
my lips. Another crash of thunder, and the red clock that illuminated a corner
of Taylor’s room went dark.
“Power’s out,” he whispered
softly as he bent his mouth over mine and dropped a light kiss on my lips. He
kissed my forehead, gently, with the touch of one who loved me. Grinned as he
pulled away for a moment, laying on his side, fingers tracing patterns on my
stomach, tugging at the tight fabric to expose patches of soft skin. “You look
so beautiful in the candle light,” he murmured quietly, his eyes shining as he
looked at me with so much love.
I grinned softly with Rebecca’s
comments fluttering through my mind, lifting my hand to Taylor’s cheek
(too
dark to see such faint lines)
and stroking his silky skin. His
blond locks glinted softly in the light, skin glowing with the golden yellow
color afforded by the candles. I reached the other hand to his cheek, pulling
his face to mine slowly, searching his eyes. His mouth beckoned to me and my
eyes fluttered shut as I kissed him once again, laying back into his pillows
with his delicious scent enveloping me.
His hands traveled to where my
shirt now sat just above my belly-button, tugging lightly on the fabric. The
shirt fell to the floor, his wife-beater joining it before he wrapped his arms
around me, our bare stomachs pressed to each other. He was incredibly warm and
the warmth of his skin was delightful against my own usually cold body. The
strength that I could feel in his limbs was delicious as I ran my hands over
him, the toned muscles in his arms shown off as he held me. He let each one of
his hands fall beside me and lifted himself up with his arms so that he could
hold his mouth just over mine. When I lifted my mouth to kiss him, he let his
lips just barely touch mine before pulling away with a devilish grin. I lay
beneath him and watched as he grinned, strands of hair falling into his eyes as
he flipped them back with a simple shake of his head. I reached one hand for
the runaway strands, running my fingers through the silky wisps that might as
well have come straight from China.
The thunder crashed into the
Oklahoma night as he lowered his body back down, the muscle in his arms
standing out against his skin as his weight settled over me. More lightning
cause the walls to glow with a radiant light as Taylor searched my eyes,
whispering softly in my ear, “I love you, Ana.”
“I love you too, baby,” I
whispered back as his lips came to mine, as the passion I felt for him escaped
to our bodies as his mouth captured mine more aggressively. Our skin clung
together through the fabric of romance as a faint sheen of fantasy began to
cover us, Taylor’s hands racing over me, my own through his hair, across his
back. I moaned softly as he let his tongue flicker out just behind my ear, one
of his hands holding my hair away from his mouth. Reached for him when he
pulled away, my mouth coming to his again, my tongue swirling with his, then
letting him chase mine back into my mouth. I pulled away slightly, but then
went back, biting his lower lip gently and licking at it. His reply was to moan
softly, burying his hands into the back pockets of my shorts and holding me
closer to his own body that ached with desire.
He pulled away from me, pushing
me down a little roughly and I couldn’t help but laugh quietly at his
aggressiveness. He looked back at me with a mischievous grin, lowering his
mouth down to my neck and sucking lightly at the skin he knew was the most
sensitive to his lips. The straps of my bra slid down my shoulders as his
fingers guided them, his mouth at the nape of my neck, one hand now on the
small of my back, the other tangled in my hair. He pulled away from me after
another moment, grinning, and sitting back on his heels, bare feet stained with
the dirt he had already attempted to wash away.
“Lay on your stomach,” he
whispered, moving out of my way so that I could do so. I gave him a curious
grin, but did as asked. I felt him straddling my hips a few seconds later, his
warm hands on my back. “Is this ok?” he asked me softly, playing with the clasp
of my bra, waiting for permission.
“Yeah,” I replied as he un-did
the clasp, the straps falling to the side of the bed. I pulled off the bra and
let it drop down to the ground, hearing his sharp intake of breath at the
un-expected move. Lay back down, knowing he hadn’t seen anything, knowing I was
teasing him with what lay pressed to his bed, out of sight.
His toasty hands came back to my
skin, rubbing gently, massaging my flesh with a loving touch. Fingers running
up and down my spine, strong hands rubbing away the knots that had formed into
my muscles. His touch sent shivers across my body, the presence of his body
pressed against mine making me want him more than I cared to acknowledge. And I
knew how easy it would be to get it.
I acted on impulse and rolled
over onto my back, looking at Taylor’s lightly flushed cheeks. My gaze went to
his tightened khakis, fingers reaching for the button of the pants. I un-did
them, watching Taylor’s face as I tugged the zipper of the pants down, eased
them off his hips. I could hear the quickening in his breath as he kicked off
the pants, laying beside me with his arms going to circle my back again. His
mouth was hot as he kissed my shoulder, licked my skin. That boy was damned
well aware of what he was doing to me…
“Taylor,” I whispered softly, but
his name came out in-between a soft moan as he let his hands wander down to my
legs, down to the shorts I wore. My cheeks flushed with warmth as he slid the
shorts off my body, using his foot to pull them off after he pushed them down
to my knees. He played with the soft cotton of my underwear, fingertips grazing
the inside of my thigh. “Tay, baby…” My voice trailed off again as he let his
hand go between my legs, pushing away the damp cotton, replacing it with his
torrid touch.
I bit my lip, squeezing my eyes
shut tightly to stifle the moans sitting on my lips, breath shortening as
Taylor continued to explore my body. And then he stopped, bringing his mouth to
mine softly. I whimpered against his mouth, silently begging him to finish what
he had started. The feelings that he had brought up in me were burning across
my skin everywhere he touched as he let his fingers dance down my stomach.
“Taylor…” His name escaped from
my lips as my eyes shut tightly, the syllables gasping out of my mouth. And
when I lay still again, my flushed face beginning to return to its usual color,
and with the thunder still crashing outside of the window with such violent
fury, Taylor cuddled beside me, pulling the sheets over us.
“Tay,” I started, pushing back the sheets and
crawling onto his body. He took my hands and kissed them, and then placed his
own around my waist and settled me back on the bed beside him.
“I’m fine,” he whispered back,
tracing patterns on my stomach. He got up for a brief second to lock the door,
and then returned to me.
“But, baby, that’s not-“
I was cut off by his reply. “I’ve
taken enough from enough people. Just let me, ok Ana?” He leaned forward and
kissed my lips gently, snuggling me to him. “I love you.”
“I love you too,” I replied, but
I was still bothered. I felt guilty that he made me feel so good and wouldn’t
take anything back.
A lot of the candles had gone out
as I looked around the room, and the rain was becoming lighter outside the
window. Taylor’s eyes closed as he lay beside me, his arm around my bare waist
beneath the sheets, his own bare skin resting against mine.
But even though I felt incredibly
guilty about not returning anything, I was relieved to find that Taylor slept
peacefully that night. So maybe I’d given him something far better than
anything sexual ever could have.
“I
force myself through another day,
Can’t
explain the way today just fell apart like everything,
Right in my face and I tried to be the one
I
can’t accept this all because of you,
I’ve had to walk away from,
Everything…”
Two days left, I
thought with a healthy dose of melancholy as I lay beside her, the morning
sunshine streaming through my window. She was still asleep, arm folded under
her face, back smooth as I ran my fingers over her. One of the most beautiful
girls I had ever known, and I couldn’t believe she was my girlfriend. I was
reminded of the sketch I had drawn of her sleeping the first night she had been
here and of how I had carelessly left it on my bed. I still wondered if she had
gone and picked up the notebook or not.
I was startled to find
her staring back at me when I snapped out of my reverie, her green eyes spell
binding, though a tad clouded. “Good-morning,” she said quietly, voice husky
from sleep as her eyes drift closed, a content sigh slipping from her mouth.
Grinning to myself, I
fished her shirt from the floor, handing it to her with a faint shake. “Put
this on in case my mother comes in here,” I told her as she cracked open her
eyes again. She only shook her head, pulling the shirt on before dropping back
to the pillows. I kissed her forehead softly, her cheek laying against my
chest.
“Love you,” I
whispered quietly, her arm soft as I let my fingertips trail along her skin.
“I love you,” she
returned in her soft voice, snuggling closer, one leg resting over mine. It was
a perfect moment as I let my arm fall over her body and lay still, perfectly
relaxed with her in my arms.
“Hey, Taylor,” a soft
voice called from just outside my door, “Tay, you awake?”
I groaned inwardly at
the sound of Isaac’s voice outside my door, turning and burying my head in Morgana’s shoulder. I sighed, then turned back towards the
door. “Yeah, I’m awake. Door’s locked though.”
There was a soft pop
as the lock gave way, revealing Isaac as he slid a thin nail into his pocket.
“Figured it would be,” he answered, leaning the door shut and taking a seat at
my desk, then turning to face us.
“Do you want me to
leave?” Morgana asked softly, looking over at my
brother with a questioning glance.
“No,” I answered for
him, cuddling her against me and sinking down into the pillows. She giggled
lightly and let me kiss her once, twice, before pushing me away.
“So what’s up?” I
asked my brother, looking back at him. I was startled to find he was watching
us with a hint of bitterness in his eyes.
“Mom took Dad out for
breakfast. Mackie, Jess, and Avie all wanted to go,
and they took Zoë with them. Zac’s still asleep on the couch.” Isaac flashed a
grin at us then, amused. “He’s freaked out by storms. Even though we’re lived
here almost all our lives, he still hates them. Usually sleeps on the couch
downstairs because we don’t all share a room anymore,” Isaac explained to Morgana. She only shook her head.
“Anyway, I just
figured I’d let you know that it’s eleven-thirty and if Mom comes home and
you’re still up here she’s going to be suspicious. Oh yeah, and there’s about
thirty people on our front lawn.”
“What?” I yelped,
sitting up quickly.
“Taylor, there’s about
thirty people on our front lawn.” Isaac stood up, going over to the window and
looking out into the backyard, the pool water glistening in the morning
sunlight. It was innocent and inviting, unaware of the commotion a mere fifty
feet away.
“Mom and Dad left with
all those people out there?”
“They weren’t standing
on the fucking lawn when they left!” Isaac snapped back, and then he sighed.
“Sorry. But I was planning on going to get Becca and
now I can’t even go get the damn mail.”
“They’re not tearing
up the lawn, are they?” I asked wearily, burying my head into Morgana’s shoulder again. She stroked her fingers softly
against my bare back as I sighed deeply, inhaling her wonderful scent of
incense and the ocean.
“I don’t think so.
Should I call Blake?” Isaac asked quietly, sighing as he dropped back down to
the chair he’d been sitting on earlier.
“Well, considering I
wanted to go out today because my girlfriend that I never get to see is only
here for another two days, yes!” I shot back, my voice angry and irritable.
Isaac didn’t say anything. He understood. He wanted to go to Rebecca’s.
I sighed as he left my
room in search of the phone. I heard him the next room a few minutes later, his
voice tired sounding and weary. He didn’t have to tell Blake anything beside
that he was Isaac Hanson and would he please send somebody out to the house?
Thanks.
“How often does this
happen?” Morgana asked curiously.
“Too often,” I
replied, letting my mouth graze hers before I enveloped her, giving, and
accepting, kiss after wonderfully delicious kiss.
I sighed as I pulled
away from her, throwing back the blankets and stretching as I stood. She walked
over to me, draping her arms around me. “One more kiss?” she asked softly,
bringing her mouth closer to mine.
“Oh, like you have to
ask.” I laughed quietly before bringing my mouth to hers. We broke apart and
she went to retrieve a bathing suit from her bag.
“Do you think that
they’ll be gone soon enough that I can go swim?” she asked as she toyed with her
different suits.
“Actually, I was
thinking of taking you out for the day if that’s ok,” I replied, going over to
her and wrapping my arms around her waist from behind. She leaned comfortably
against me and grinned. “Where are we going?”
“Oh, like I’m going to
tell you.” I shook my head as I leaned over to kiss her cheek softly. I grabbed
the tank top I had been wearing the day before and pulled it over my head.
“Grab some shorts or something,” I started but stopped when I saw her sliding
on her cutoffs from the night before. I shook my head and led her downstairs to
the kitchen. The curtains were drawn against the people outside. It as such a
nice morning and the sunlight streaming into our kitchen always looked so warm
and comforting… but it was only the warm sunny day breeding that bread the most
disastrous of storms.
Isaac was sitting at
the island in the kitchen, sipping a cup of coffee and drumming his fingers
impatiently on the tabletop. The cordless phone sat next to him.
“Is someone coming out
here?”
“On their way,” he
snapped, eyes squeezed shut. “Blake said he’d com out here himself.” He paused,
then continued, “I just want to know, if these people claim to love us so much,
why the fuck won’t they let us live our damned lives?”
“I don’t know, Ike,” I
replied quietly, pouring a cup of coffee for myself after getting some for Morgana. Ah, black poison.
Zac came stumbling
into the kitchen, clothes rumpled and long hair flying everywhere. He
impatiently tore at the elastic on his wrist and pulled his hair through it,
glaring at us all as we laughed at him. “What’s going on with the people
outside?” he slurred sleepily, gesturing with his thumb to the front of the
house.
“More people have
decided to destroy Mom’s lawn,” I told him, pulling Morgana
onto my lap as I sipped at the coffee that we had brought back with us from our
last trip to Brazil. Whenever we went there, we bought a good twenty pounds of
coffee back to the states with us. Best coffee in the world.
“Oh, fuck that,” Zac
mumbled, reaching into the refrigerator for his morning can of Dr. Pepper. He
cracked it open, gulping down half the
can before looking at us. “Where is everyone?”
“Mom took them all out
for breakfast,” I told him, shifting my weight on the chair so I was more
comfortable.
“Oh, and we get to
stay home and fend for ourselves?” Zac grumbled, mock-anger in his voice as he
rummaged through the refrigerator for the pizza from the other night. He sat
down in his customary spot on the counter and munched the slice.
“Zac, you were asleep.
So were those two. I was stumbling around. Not to mention, I don’t think that
Tay and Morgana going out with the family in this
town is such a good idea.” Isaac looked over at me, hoping that he hadn’t just
seriously pissed me off. But I just shrugged. I didn’t care. It was rare that
we went anywhere in Tulsa as a family anymore. And Rebecca hardly ever went
anywhere with us. Usually, her and Isaac just went out of the city.
“So, what’re you guys
all doing today?” Zac asked as he jumped down off the counter, the pizza
munched down to the sparse crumbs covering his chest.
“I’m going to
Rebecca’s as soon as the mob gets thrown off the property and I can get out of
the driveway without a lawsuit,” Isaac replied, tapping his fingers impatiently
on the counter top as his gaze darted to the pulled curtains and then back.
“I’m taking Morgana out once they all leave,” I told him, ignoring the
curious look Morgana herself shot at me. “What’re you
going to do?”
“I think I’m going to
go out riding with Paul and Eric. You know those paths that go out over the
river? Through Jenks, going towards Bixby?” Zac asked as he looked at me and
Isaac. “Have you been out there before?”
“Yeah, I’ve been,” I
told him, my eyes sparkling as I remembered flying over the dirt paths at full
speed. “It kicks major ass.”
“I’ve heard of it, but
I’ve never actually been there,” Isaac added, then he gave a grateful sigh as
we heard a loud, firm knock on our front door.
Isaac walked over,
carefully opening the door to admit the cop that was frequently sent out to our
house. Behind him, the fans were creeping off our lawn, leaving their
footprints in the some-what muddy grass.
“Hey, guys,” he
greeted us, stepping into the room and wiping his feet on the mat. “Are your
parents home?”
I shook my head in
reply, tightening my grip on Morgana as she started
to slip. “Nope, just us. Mom and all them went out for breakfast.”
“They left you guys at
home?” Blake asked, taking the cup of steaming coffee Zac offered. This had
become the custom. He came in and talked with us after he got rid of the fans,
drank his coffee, wished us a good day and left.
“Yep,” Zac replied,
handing over the cream from the refrigerator and getting some sugar down.
“So this is your
girlfriend, Taylor?” Blake asked, gesturing to Morgana,
giving me one of his lop-sided, teasing grins.
“Yep.” I grinned,
tightening my grip around her waist momentarily as he watched us.
“She’s very pretty,”
he told me, grinning at the flush that came over Morgana’s
cheeks. “Now, young lady, you be careful ‘round here. All these crazy girls
running ‘round your boyfriend. Best be keeping a watchful eye on him.” His
voice held that faint Midwestern drawl that I supposed my voice contained to a
certain degree as he spoke, voice teasing when he looked at me.
“Don’t worry about it,
Ana. Thanks again Blake,” I called as he left, leaving the coffee cup in the
sink.
“Anytime, guys. Have a
good day!” he called, the door closing loudly behind him and the sound of his
heavy steps on the concrete steps fading away.
“Later, Ike,” I
shouted after my brother as he went into the garage with car keys swinging in
hand. I heard his car tearing down the driveway a few minutes later. “I’ll see ya, Zac,” I said as I dumped my coffee cup into the sink
and tugged Morgana back to my room.
“Later.” His voice
echoed off the halls of the stairway from the kitchen as I heard him popping
open his second can of Dr. Pepper.
“So what’ve you got
planned now that the mob has left you in peace?” Morgana
asked, tugging me closer to her as I slid the door shut. She kissed my neck,
then draped her arms around my neck and leaned back, gazing at me with the
jungle of green that was her eyes.
“Oh, like I’m going to
tell you? C’mon, Ana, give me a little more credit than that!” I laughed
quietly as she pouted, disentangling her arms from my neck and walking over to
my closet. “Why don’t you find some clothes and go take a shower so we can get
going? I’ll go use Ike’s bathroom.”
“What should I wear,
Mr. Surprises?” Morgana asked, catching my arm as I
turned back toward the closet. “I mean, you have to give me something to work
with.”
“Hmm… how about
something summery, sexy, and fun?” I suggested, laughing at the look she gave
me.
“Very funny,” she
replied, going over to her bag and pulling out some fabric from her bag. “Tell
you what. I’m going to go put on these clothes and if you don’t like them then
I’ll change, ok?”
“Sure,” I answered,
kissing her cheek as she walked passed me into the bathroom. I heard the water
turn on as I continued shuffling through the clothes in my closet. I pulled out
a pair of black pants and then grabbed a white tank top with a dragon printed
on it.
After I had showered
and run some mousse through my hair, making it hang loosely around my eyes, I
smiled softly, fingering the silver cross that still hung around my neck. Then
shoved my feet into a pair of sandals and returned to my own room.
Morgana was
standing just inside the bathroom door, brushing her hair as she spritzed it with a light, herbal finishing spray. I walked
quietly, knowing where the boards would squeak and where they wouldn’t.
“Gotcha,” I whispered
in her ear, circling her waist with my long arms and planting a quick kiss on
her cheek. I quickly moved away to avoid being hit.
“Taylor!” she
admonished with eyes that lit up with playfulness, shaking her fingers at me.
“Don’t do that!” She shook her head and then turned so I could look at her.
“This ok?”
I looked at her,
purposefully letting my eyes linger over every inch of her body. She wore a
short skirt, one of those black mini-skirts with the shorts underneath. Her
tank-top was a very light blue, almost a baby-blue, and sparkled along the low
neckline with rhinestones. The raven’s hair I loved was pulled up for the most
part, with wispy tendrils hanging down and framing her face. Around her neck,
she wore a silver chain with a Gothic cross dangling on the end.
“Absolutely gorgeous,”
I said softly, walking forward and wrapping her into my arms, enjoying the
sweet and passionate kiss she gave me. “You ready?” I asked as we pulled apart
and she looked back into the mirror, wiping lightly at one black-rimmed eye.
“Yeah, just let me
grab some sunglasses,” she called after me as I walked back into my bedroom and
grabbed my gray leather jacket, making sure my car keys were in the pocket
where I had left them. I shoved my wallet into the pocket of the coat as I
shrugged it on, taking Morgana’s hand into mine as
she slid her sunglasses onto her face and took her small beaded purse from where
it hung on the doorknob. I kissed her palm softly as she started to walk out of
my room, pleased to see her grin at me.
August 16
I haven’t heard from Taylor the last
couple days. I know he’s got his baby here, but it still really sucks. My best
friend…!
*Sighs*. And for all the jazz about
her, I’ve yet to meet the damn girl. She’s just a wisp of a photo-graph
Taylor’s been showing off for the last month or so.
It’s just so strange these days.
Taylor’s not around like her used to be, though I can’t necessarily complain.
This girl… she’s done him more good than I ever could. She loves him and her
loves her. Finally, he loves something besides his drug-induced oblivion.
My love for him never did that. And
while it hurts, I know why. I love Taylor as the younger brother I never really
wanted. Taylor doesn’t love me any other way, either. We’re like family.
And God knows Zac and Ike tried. He
loves them more than anyone, including Taylor himself, realizes. Yet it didn’t
help. We abuse our families endlessly, perhaps only because we know they’ll
continue to take it day after day. Or maybe because we knot that they love us
too much, love us in a child’s guise; the truth is hidden behind innocent eyes.
Somehow, it never did for him what
this girl has done in just over two weeks.
But Ike and Zac don’t seem to care
at all. They must just be happy to have a sober Taylor back. While I am too,
this relationship is just… something about it doesn’t sit right with me. She’s
too perfect for him. They’re too perfect together.
Re-reading what I just wrote, I
sound like a jealous lover. I’m just paranoid, I suppose. I’ve witnessed enough
tears from that boy. He gets so easily upset over things he never really
connected with. I can only imagine the kind of tempest Morgana’s
breath would bring.
Kira
“As I walked
into this old forgotten hall, I began to fall,
Wish I could
frame you and this feeling on the wall
To stare at ‘til
there is no time…”
I closed my eyes and leaned back
against the car seat, enjoying the breeze whipping over my body, enjoying
Taylor’s arm around my shoulders.
When we got back to his house,
the sun was low in the sky. According to the glowing digits on the stove, it
was nearing eight. The family was sitting in the living room, save for Isaac.
Zac sprawled across the floor, arms acting as a pillow. Jessie and Avie sitting on one end of the couch, playing a game of
cards that seemed to interest them much more than the movie on TV. Mackenzie
leaned on his father’s arm, fast asleep; Zoë slept in her mother’s arms.
Diana looked up as we entered the
room, smiling warmly at us. “Did you two have a nice day?”
“Yeah,” Taylor replied, squeezing
my hand lightly as he started to turn away from his mother. “We’re going to go
in the pool, ok?”
“That’s fine. Turn on the lights
outside so you don’t get hurt. And Taylor?” my mother called after me as I
started to walk away.
“What?”
“Do you know when Isaac’s
supposed to be back? He hasn’t called or anything.” Taylor rolled his eyes at
me before replying, “No, Mom. He went to Becca’s
though, so he’ll probably be back late.”
That said, Taylor pulled me after
him up to his room, muttering about how Isaac was nineteen and, ‘why the fuck
he should have to call and check in,’ was beyond him. I just grinned, going to
my bag for a bathing suit.
Taylor took his sweet time coming
down to the pool, offering the excuse that he had gone to the bathroom. He
kissed my shoulder, then pulled me onto his lap, producing a small white box
from behind his back. I could only look at him with a faint amount of wonder.
“What’s this?” I asked curiously.
When had he bought me something? I had been with him nearly every second since
arriving in Tulsa. And Taylor would have never been able to hide a gift from me
for that long.
“Something for you,” he replied.
His hair was soft as he leaned his cheek on my shoulder, tightening his grasp
on me. “Open it.”
I smiled as I pulled the top up,
revealing silver sparkling softly in the dim glow of the patio lights. The
chain was fairly long and delicate and on the end rested a pentacle, the very
pentacle that I had gazed longingly at in a store stuck in some small town off
Route 75 only a few hours before.
“Oh, baby, this is beautiful. How
did you… I was standing right there!” I chided myself, shaking my head as he
sat up and clasped it behind my neck. The charm fell against my skin softly,
but Taylor picked it back up with his soft fingers. I smiled softly as he
repeated my own gesture when I had given him the cross, leaning down and
kissing it softly against my skin.
“I’m slick,” he replied, grinning
broadly as I let a soft kiss flutter over his mouth. We kissed slowly,
lingeringly before I stood up, remembering the clear glass door that was the
only thing separating us from Taylor’s parents.
“C’mon, baby, I wanna swim,” I pleaded softly, tugging on his arm to get
him to stand up. He sighed, shaking his head at me.
“You never give up, do you?”
“Nope, never,” I replied, pulling
him closer to the water and not caring that he protested the coldness of it.
It was perhaps eleven when we got
out of the water, creeping up to Taylor’s room to avoid waking the house up.
Isaac was still missing.
“Will he stay the night with Becca?” I asked Taylor quietly as I dug into my bag for
clothes to sleep in.
“Might. I’m not sure,” he told
me, running the towel through his hair. I didn’t say anything, but instead went
to the bathroom and slipped into my pajamas. When I came back, he wore a dry
pair of boxers, wet clothing discarded next to the bathroom door. I picked it
all up, hanging the clothes over the shower before carefully making my way
through the dark room.
When I climbed into bed next to
him, his body was deliciously warm and comforting. Arms encircled me in the
darkness, holding me with that tender firmness I loved. Sighing softly, I
snuggled closer to him, breathing the delicious scent of his skin. “Did you
sleep last night?” I asked quietly.
“Yeah, actually, I did,” he
replied after a moment, stroking my hair. He sighed, told me he loved me and
fell into the bliss of sleep.
I’m leaving tomorrow.
The thought perpetuating me as I
woke up. I’m leaving and going back to Connecticut tomorrow. Alone.
Taylor was still asleep next to
me, a little grin spread across his doll’s lips. I leaned over and planted a
soft kiss on his forehead, then got up. Got dressed. Found my wallet. It was
around eight, and I knew Taylor wouldn’t wake up for at least another hour. The
house still slept as I crept down the stairs, out onto the street, to the
bakery a few blocks away. I walked quickly, the summer-morning air already
warm, the sun filtering between the leaves.
The bakery smelt of the rich
savory treats that were being made. I only grinned as I looked at the different
sweets. Taylor had a weak spot for those donuts with the cream on the inside.
Boston Cream, that was it. I knew Taylor well enough that he would just look at
them, then eat three or four without thinking twice. That was fine. He would
taste sweeter than he usually did.
I paid for Taylor’s surprise breakfast
and walked slowly down the road, morning sunshine warming my tanned skin with
each breath I took. The air was clear here, dry, whereas the air in Connecticut
tended to be polluted and damp. In a lot of ways, New York City to Boston was
starting to compare to Southern California. And I lived smack in the middle of
it.
When I crept back into the house,
I found Isaac awake. From his spot on the couch, he looked up, face painted in
surprise.
“Where’d you go?” he asked, voice
thick with exhaustion. He hadn’t slept apparently, judging from the fact he
still wore yesterday’s rumpled clothes.
“Buy Taylor breakfast. I’m gonna surprise him,” I replied, going over to the couch and
sitting beside him for a moment. “You alright?”
“Yeah, I think.” He sighed softly,
yet when he looked at me there were tears in his eyes. “Have you ever done
something that was so great while you were doing it, but then after turned out
to be the biggest mistake of your life?”
Without trying to figure out what
had happened to him, although the questions swirled through my mind at dizzying
speed, I was silent for a moment. “Yes,” came my soft voice a moment later as I
remember making out with Matt, whispering seductive little things into his ear.
Isaac sighed again, but his
breath was ragged with the tears he fought, tears I wasn’t meant to see. Yet it
didn’t really matter. I was going to try and help him. With the closeness that
had formed between me and Taylor, it was in a strange way like I belonged there
in Tulsa. Like I would be there a lot more. And Isaac was his brother.
“Ike, it’s ok to cry,” I
whispered quietly in his ear. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and was
relieved when he hugged me back.
“I know.” He smiled sadly as I
rose, bakery bag in hand. He looked at the me with a wistful gaze, yet I knew
it wasn’t for me. It was for something that I had, something that I felt.
“You’d better get back to Taylor before he has an attack thinking you’re gone.”
I smiled softly, planting a
gentle kiss on Isaac’s cheek before climbing the stairs back to Taylor’s room.
My bed-clothes were wondrously comfortable as I slipped them back on and dove
under Taylor’s sheets, the bakery bag laying on the floor next to me.
Still he was fast asleep, but the soft grin I had
left him with was gone. His lips pressed tightly together, blond brows
furrowed. A whimper escaped his lips and he stirred. I leaned over, kissing his
cheek. He seemed to quiet some, yet he still frowned. I brushed back his silky
hair, shaking his shoulder lightly. “Tay,” I whispered, “baby, wake up.”
He stirred again, cracking one
eye open and peering at me. As his vision cleared, a careful mask overtook his
features, locking me out. “Morning,” he said quietly, burying his face in my
skin and holding me closer. He kissed my collarbones softly once, twice. Lay
still.
“What were you dreaming about?” I
asked softly, stroking his soft hair as it brushed over his closed eyelids.
“You,” he muttered quietly. “It
was great. Me and you…” There was a pretense to his playful tone and while I
didn’t doubt he’d had the dream he was describing earlier, there had been
another dream.
“Did you dream about that girl
again?” His eyes snapped open when I said that. He stared open-mouthed at me
and I knew I’d hit it. “Baby, did… did something happen?”
“No,” he said quietly, shaking
his head from side to side. “No, nothing like that.”
“Alright.” I sighed softly, then
reached over the side of the bed and retrieved the sweets I had just purchased.
They were still warm.
Taylor looked at me curiously as
I deposited the pastry bag on his stomach, curling down into the blankets
again. “What’s this?” he asked curiously as he peaked into the bag. “Oh, Ana…”
He grinned broadly as he saw the treats, their smell wavering up to his
nostrils. “You do love me!”
I shook my head as he brought one
of the donuts to his mouth and munched on a savory bite. As he looked back at
me, I giggled. There was chocolate covering his lips. I reached my mouth to
his, kissing him and licking the sweetness.
“When’d you get these?” he asked
curiously, quickly finishing off the first donut and diving into the bag for
another as I knew he would. Not like they would have any effect on his slender
physique.
“I went out before I woke you up.
Got changed when I came back.” I grinned as he lapped up the cream oozed by the
pastry. He was cute, so much like a little boy, still half-asleep and devouring
his surprise.
“I love you.” He beamed at me
with his bright blue eyes, licking his fingers delicately as he finished off
the second donut. To my surprise, he deposited the remaining ones in the bag on
the floor next to his bed before swinging his arm over me. He snuggled up to
me, peering at me with soft eyes.
“I love you too, baby,” I replied
as we kissed gently, a soft kiss of intimacy, not lust. No, there was far more
to this than lust. As I had predicted, he was deliciously sweet.
I know it seems a bit insane that
I felt this way after no more than three weeks of knowing this boy. But you
have to understand, there was something there… something unexplainable. I did
love him, looking back now. I loved him as much as I…
The day was blissfully long, a
day of sitting by the pool in a pleasant tangle of limbs, of those lingering
kisses. It was day of soft back rubs, sweet nothings whispered back and forth.
A day where Taylor let loose his pretenses as we remained for the entire day in
the haven of his home. A day where his soft voice drifted over the air as he
sang random lyrics in my ear…
But it ended, as I supposed it
always would. The sun set as Taylor and I watched from the branches of the tree
overlooking the city and quickly crept back to the house. The reality of my
leaving him hit me full force as we skipped dinner to lay together under the
stars on the patio.
“Tay,” I said softly as I traced
patterns across the tight shirt he wore, “I’m leaving tomorrow.”
“Don’t remind me,” he whispered
back, tightening his grin on me so that I was nearly crushed by his strength.
“I just want to pretend that we’ll be here forever.”
I sighed softly, but the tears
came anyway, plopping to the pavement unchecked.
“Hey, shh…”
Taylor comforted me quietly, gathering me more tightly into his arms. He kissed
the tears that followed, making sure none of them had the chance to drizzle
past my chin and become one with the cement. “I love you Ana,” he whispered
over and over to me as I sobbed heavily, trying desperately to stop but unable
to. “God, do I love you.”
When my tears had ceased, or at
least slowed, Taylor swept me into his arms, carrying me to his bedroom. I
clung to him desperately, not wanting to let him go. He went about his room,
re-lighting his candles that hadn’t burnt down the night before, his closed
door giving us the privacy we both wanted.
When he came back to his bed
where he had set me down, he moved slowly, climbing over me. As he knelt, he
pulled my shirt gently over my head, gracefully removing the piece of clothing
from my skin. He breathed softly as he lowered his mouth to my stomach, kissing
me lightly, lovingly. His tongue snaked out, warming my skin as he caressed me
with his mouth.
And before I knew it, our kisses
were a desperate plea to each other. We were frantic as our hands roamed over
each other’s bodies, as our mouths explored each other’s soft skin. My breath
was long gone, far from being controlled, but I didn’t care. The only thing
that mattered to me was Taylor, kissing Taylor, feeling Taylor’s skin under my
fingers. Finally I was crying, the tears pouring down my cheeks, and there was
a shimmer behind his baby-blues.
“Taylor, stop,” I finally gasped,
shoving him away from me. I rose, walking swiftly though I stumbled, into the
bathroom. I shut the door heavily behind me and sat on the closed toilet. And
when Taylor popped the lock and encircled me in a loving hug with tears
cascading down my cheeks as well as his, I collapsed against him and let
everything pour out.
“Millionaire
say I got a big shot deal,
And I’ve thrown it all away.
But I’m not too sure how I’m supposed to feel,
Or what I’m supposed to say…”
She had been gone for
two days. Two endless days that had stretched for an eternity. My nights were
sleepless without her there to lay beside me and comfort me while I tossed and
turned with the same damned nightmares. Not that the nightmares had completely
left me in her presence, but they hadn’t been as severe. It hadn’t been as bad
because when I finally woke up, it had been to her beautiful eyes looking at me
with concern. Now I awoke to an empty room, and the cold silence of the house.
“Hey, is Morgana there?” I asked quietly into the phone now, laying
back on a lounge chair by the pool, body splayed over the seat.
“Yeah, hold on. I
think she’s writing,” her sister told me
and I could hear her soft footsteps on the stairs. “Morgana!
Taylor’s on the phone!”
“Hold on,” Nicole told
me quickly before the phone was snatched away. I heard a door shutting and then
came the angelic voice of my girlfriend.
“Hey, baby,” she
greeted me, turning down the Staind that blared in
her room. It faded to a softer volume and she sighed deeply. “What’re you up
to?”
“Mmm…
missing you,” I replied softly, now taking my time to sigh.
“Maybe you can come
visit me here,” she said and I could see
her soft smile at the thought.
“Seriously?”
“I dunno.
I’d have to ask my mother.” She laughed quietly. “That would be awesome.”
“Yeah, another week of
sleeping with you by my side… I miss that the most, ya
know?” I told her softly, playing with the edge of my T-shirt as I spied a
stain. I gave up after rubbing at it for a few more minutes and went back to
enjoying the delicious sun-baked feel I was getting.
“Yeah, I know. Have
you been sleeping?” There was concern in her voice as she asked me and I almost
felt bad lying to her. I just… it didn’t seem right. But I didn’t want to worry
her anymore than she already was.
“Yeah, I’ve been
fine,” I replied instead, gritting my teeth after the words had passed from my
lips, because the harsh images of the dream were filtering back into my mind.
“No you haven’t.” It
was a statement, not a question. It was a remark said without a hint of
questioning. I was silent as she sighed heavily, curling her fingers tightly
around the phone, so I imagined. “Why do you lie?”
“I don’t want you to
worry about me,” I answered honestly, closing my eyes against the glare of the
pool. The water was so bright now, being the noon hour and late July.
“Taylor…” She sighed
again as her voice got quiet. “Baby, I love you, ok? I worry about you everyday
because of that . And I know that
you’re having these nightmares.”
“I know,” I whispered,
toying with the phone as I struggled to become more comfortable on the lawn
chair.
“Do you really? Look,
baby, come visit me. Let me get rid of your nightmares. I’ll go ask my mother
right now. I miss you baby.” Her voice was insistent, almost shrill now that I
think about it. She sounded desperate, like she was trying to keep herself from
breaking down.
“Morgana,
you know I’d love nothing more than to see you,” I said. Closed my eyes and
pleaded silently as she requested that I hold on; she needed to go ask her
mother. Began to hold my breath as the minutes ticked by and all I could hear
was the sound of Aaron Lewis wailing away.
She came back,
finally, ten minutes later. Her voice was hoarse, but what she had to say was
wonderful. “Baby, she agreed. And here’s the best part: She’s got a business
trip for the next two weeks. Nic’s going to be the
only other one here.”
“When can I leave?”
* * *
Hurry up, hurry up! I
thought anxiously as the plane slowly eased into the terminal. Damn, you
people are slow.
I rose as soon as I
could, ignoring the blistering looks fellow passengers, mostly blue-haired
ladies, shot at me. I slipped passed them, disregarding more scorching glares.
I was finally in Connecticut a week later and every minute longer was too much.
Morgana’s mother actually had a flight that left an
hour before mine arrived, so her mother was long gone. Some how, the only word
that came to mind was: sweet!
I walked quickly down
the terminal, sunglasses shoved over my eyes, hat jammed down over my hair. But
it didn’t matter to me. Laptop bag on my shoulder as I walked, the weight easy
to support after so many other airport excursions.
It took all the
self-control I possessed not to sweep Morgana off her
feet when I saw her. But she had told me not to. She had, in-fact, told me not
to touch her in the airport, just to follow her down to the luggage claim, grab
my bag and follow her to the parking lot.
I did as I had been
told, silently grabbing my things and dumping them into the trunk of her car.
Then turned to her as she stood silently beside me. She grinned and slipped
away from me as I reached for her. “Wait until we get back to my house. Nic went to Bianca’s.”
I grinned broadly,
somehow still able to smile even though I was going insane. I wanted to kiss
her, to touch her, but she just gave me that teasing smile.
Blissfully, her house
was no more than twenty minutes from the airport. When I removed my bags from
the car, I didn’t bother to carry them upstairs. I only dropped them in the
front hall and grabbed Morgana.
She giggled quietly as
I held her body tightly to mine. “Where’s your room?” I asked in a sexy growl,
my voice low as I stared at her, body heat rising as I drank her in.
“First room on the
right,” she whispered, placing her hands on my shoulders and pulling herself
up, legs wrapping around me. I let one hand firmly grasp her bottom so that she
wouldn’t fall and walked up the stairs. I set her down on her bed, still having
not been allowed to let my mouth graze hers.
As I climbed over her,
I breathed deeply, gazing at her. My eyes raced over every inch of her and then
I couldn’t resist it anymore. Mouth capturing hers suddenly, I crushed her to
me as I lay across her. I kicked off my shoes and let my legs tangle with hers.
Our tongues chased each other through our warm mouths, each aching for the
touch of the other.
“I love you baby,” she
whispered quietly in my ear as she breathed deeply, my hands having ventured
along her breasts as I un-buttoned her shirt and eased it over her shoulders.
“I love you too,” I
muttered back in a husky voice I reserved only for her. Only her…
We resumed our kisses
after the sweet exchange of words, devouring each other. But the passion eased
away so that our kisses grew less frenzied, more lingering. She only smiled
softly as I finally pulled away from her, snuggling against me.
Quite suddenly, the
shrilling of the phone cut through the blissful silence. "Oh, Goddamnit,” Morgana muttered,
reaching behind her head and clicking on the phone.
“Hello? Oh for
Christ’s sake Nicole! Didn’t I tell you not to bother me? No, I don’t care if
Bianca comes over for the night! Her parents know Mom’s gone? Don’t you bitch
at me Nicole! Oh, no… damnit Nicole, I told you
Taylor was coming today! Bianca doesn’t know, does she? Damnit,
Nicole… fine! Alright! I don’t care! But you had better not be home… Nicole!
Fine, ten minutes.” She slammed down the phone to her dresser angrily and
looked back at me.
“Nicole coming home
early?” I asked quietly, rubbing her shoulders.
“Yeah and she’s
bringing Bianca with her.” Morgana made a face as she
snuggled up against me. “Bianca has no idea that I’m dating you.”
“She isn’t… she isn’t
a fanatic, is she?” I asked tentatively. Great, I come to visit my girlfriend and
we aren’t even safe in her house. Why did I ever decide to pursue this career?
No! I chided myself
quickly as she traced silent patterns across my bare chest. You know you’re
happy with what you’ve done. There’s just some shit that comes with it. You knew
that from the beginning.
I kissed her forehead
softly as she lay close to me, but it occurred to me that she hadn’t answered
my question on whether or not Bianca was a fan.
“Morgana?”
I asked again, letting my eyes slip shut against the sunlight that streamed
through her windows. “Is Bianca a fan?”
“Tay, she’s… I guess
you could call her a fan. Not one of the obsessive ones, but she does have
every CD… lots of posters… a website or two…” She stopped and looked at me with
a sheepish gaze, but there was a hidden annoyance. “I don’t know what she’s gonna do…”
“I guess I’ll just
have to grin and bare it,” I replied after a moment, looking over at the clock.
It had been about ten minutes. “Do you think we should… get dressed in more…
um… less revealing clothes?”
“I don’t mind.” She
grinned slyly, but sighed again and tumbled off her bed. She reached into her
closet and took out a tank-top. “You can stay just the way you are,” she told
me playfully, coming back over to where I now stood and running her fingers
over my torso. I leaned down and kissed her again, encircling her delicate body
and holding her gently.
Downstairs, a door
slammed. Voices drifted up from the hallway through the open door of Morgana's room. “Who’s here, Nic?”
“A friend of Morgana’s,” Nicole’s voice trailed up and their footsteps
grew louder as they started up the stairs. I smiled nervously at Morgana right before Nicole turned into her room.
I heard Bianca’s faint
whisper of, “Holy shit,” as she followed after Nicole. She was staring at me,
at my arms around Morgana, at my T-shirt that lay on Morgana’s rumpled bed. “Holy shit,” she muttered again,
grabbing the door frame. Nicole cast a nervous look at her before looking back
over at Morgana. A very irritated Morgana.
“Ana?” she asked tentatively.
“Um… could you bring me and Bianca to Blockbuster tonight?”
“I swear to God
Nicole, you are soooo pushing it today!” she snapped
back, disentangling herself from my arms.
“Hey, Nicole,” I said
quietly, waving half-heartedly at her younger sister. A dopey grin stretched
across my face, and finding myself bored, I flopped back on Morgana’s
bed.
“Taylor, get up and put a shirt on. We’re going to
Blockbuster,” she said sharply, picking up the wife-beater I’d worn under my
other shirt. “You had better not be bothering me all night, Nicole. You know
how things are with me and Taylor!” It seemed that she didn’t even realize that
Bianca was standing there, absorbing it all. Probably coming to the wrong
conclusion. “And you had better be paying for these!”
“I know! Sarah’s
working today, right?” Nicole asked quietly as Bianca trailed behind her,
continuing to shoot curious glances at me. She probably figured I was just some
guy who looked at a hell of a lot like Taylor Hanson. Although, that wouldn’t explain
Morgana calling me Taylor, but who knows what these
kids think.
“Yes, so you can get
whatever rated R movie you want,” Morgana told her,
picking up her car keys from the floor in the front hall beside my bags. I saw
Bianca’s eyes shoot to my bags, her eyes devouring the name tags, the address
left on the tag of the luggage.
“Oh, hi,” I began
nonchalantly, looking over at her with a charismatic grin, “I’m Taylor Hanson. Morgana’s boyfriend.”
Morgana shot
me a chiding, yet amused grin, and Bianca just kept on gaping as we stepped
into the garage.
The amazing thing to
me was that as pissed off as Morgana was at her
sister, she didn’t go through on her tirade of making her pay for the videos.
Instead, she merely instructed Bianca and her both to go find two videos, let
me repeat, only two videos. Meanwhile, she wound through the racks in search of
a movie herself, me trailing along.
After she had located
what she was looking for, she reached up, playing with the tendrils of hair
that had fallen from the bucket hat I had shoved down over my head. She sneaked
her mouth to mine, planting a soft kiss on my lips as Nicole and Bianca’s
voices drifted over to us.
“I can’t believe you
didn’t tell me that your sister was
dating HIM!!” was what I heard the most distinctly, followed by more of
Nicole’s soft snickering and laughter. Morgana only
shook her head, shooting me an almost sheepish grin as she grabbed the proper
box for her movie of choice, “The Matrix”. Though I remembered her telling me
something about the flick, I honestly couldn’t recall much about it.
I stared in amazement
as Morgana playfully ushered Nicole out of the aisle,
teasing her about the chick-flick movies she had chosen from the
teenage-bullshit section of the store. The same girl who had been rather
annoyed with her only a short while before was now indulging, granted
begrudgingly indulging, but indulging all the same, her sister’s wishes to stop
at the grocery store. And to get pizza. And…
I stopped listening.
Once we had returned
to Morgana’s house, my legs warm from having to hold
pizza, she ushered her sister and Bianca to the basement with their food. There
was protesting, but it was quickly silenced with a glare from Morgana. It was slowly occurring to me that her and Nicole
had the same kind of relationship as I did with Isaac. And for that I was
grateful because, on the chance of sounding corny, sometimes I honestly didn’t
know what I would do without Isaac.
It was curled up with
her on the couch of her living room that the question I had been wondering
since Bianca’s rather shocking discovery of me: Just how many of Morgana’s friends knew about me? I posed this question to
her, as the soft quilt on the back of her couch came tumbling down over us.
“My best-friend Skye
knows. Umm, I don’t think I told anyone else. I mean, people have asked me if I
have a boyfriend and I tell them, yeah, his name’s Taylor. Nothing more than
that,” she replied as the shimmering green Warner Brothers screen came up on
her TV. “Why?”
“I was just curious.
You don’t have to, ya know, keep us a secret,” I told
her, kissing her forehead tenderly. “You can tell whoever you want. As long as
it’s not the National Inquirer.” She giggled at this statement before snuggling
closer. There was an eruption of laughter from downstairs, then it was silent.
When the film had run
out, I reached for the remote laying on the floor under my feet and clicked the
power button. The noise of Bianca and Nicole’s chattering drifted up the
stairs, as well as some incredibly obnoxious pop music. Next to me, I
discovered, was my girlfriend, fast asleep.
“You’re so beautiful,”
I whispered quietly, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear carefully.
Grinned as the stubborn curl bounced back.
Looking at the clock,
I discovered it was nearing eleven, so I decided to avoid waking her up if at
all possible. Instead, I looped my arms under her body, carrying her to her
room. I set her down on her bed, gently removing the bra she wore so that she
would be able to sleep without it irritating her. I’m not a perverted freak, I
was just doing it so that she would be comfortable.
I slunk back down the
stairs for a moment, going to the basement. I walked down, somewhat startled to
discover that they fell dead silent. Talking about me and Morgana,
I supposed. Or maybe just me. “Hey, Nic,” I started
quietly, gesturing over my shoulder, “Morgana fell
asleep. She’s upstairs. I’m going to sleep. So can you just be quiet?”
“Yeah, sure,” Nicole
replied easily, nodding. “We’ll just stay down here for now until we go to
sleep. If we go to sleep.” She giggled lightly under her breath at the look she
exchanged with Bianca.
I only shook my head.
“Thanks Nic.” Though as I left, I heard Bianca’s
incredulous, “Does your mother know that him and Morgana
are sleeping in her bed together?”
Once again, I only shook my head.
“I’m alone while
you’re having fun,
You have faith
while I feel none,
Sleep till late
to waste half the day,
But I’m happy to
live this way…”
I panicked for a brief second
when I woke up and realized I had fallen asleep watching the movie. My
immediate thought was, Oh shit, I wasted all my time and now he’s gone. Then I
discovered that Taylor sound asleep beside me, crimson lips curled into a faint
smile. His chest was bare; my cross hung over his collarbones. Ten o’clock, I
realized, looking over at the clock.
Beside me, he stirred faintly. He
yawned, but his eyes remained shut. Slowly they fluttered open, the brilliance
of the deep azure color poking through a haze of sleep. “Hey,” he murmured
quietly, voice thick and husky. His eyes slid shut again as he snuggled me
closer, sighing as if an angel’s wings had whispered past.
“Morning,” I replied, curling
deeper into his arms. Warm, comforting arms…
We lay still, cuddling each other
in comfortable silence. What I didn’t expect was to hear Taylor’s soft voice,
husky yes, with sleep, singing quietly:
“Every single time I see you, I
start to feel this way. Makes me wonder if I’m ever gonna
fell this way again. There’s a picture that’s hanging in the back of my head, I
see it over and over. I want to hold you and love you in my arms and then I
want to need you cause I need to be with you till the end…” His voice trailed
off as he peered at me with curious eyes shining with brilliant love. I giggled
quietly under my breath while he planted a gentle kiss on my cheek, holding me
in strong arms.
“I thought that up last night,”
he confided quietly as I snuggled down under the blankets, closer to his
delightfully warm body. “I was laying here, watching you sleep and the lyrics
just kinda started to drift into my mind. I wanted to
sing to you. I wanted to wake you up just so I could sing, but you looked so
peaceful. So angelic.”
“That’s so sweet, baby,” I
replied quietly, moving so that my mouth was level with his. I kissed him
softly, lightly, and was delighted when he tugged me into his strong grasp to
continue our kisses. I laughed quietly as he became playful with me, tickling
at my sides and dropping feather-light kisses across my neck. “I love you.”
“I love you too,” he whispered
back. He nuzzled my throat softly as he continued, “And I just want to lay here
forever with you.”
“Mmm,”
I said softly, running my fingers through his hair, hair that was soft to the
touch and smelled delicious. “But we have to get up. I don’t know what time
I’ve got to bring Bianca back. Who knows? If we’re lucky Nicole might go over
there tonight or something.”
“Ooo, I
like the sound of that,” Taylor replied, grinning playfully as he stood and
stretched. I resisted the temptation to tease him over his wonderfully cute
Marvin the Martian boxers and instead rose myself and walked over to my closet.
As Taylor slid on his pants from the day before, I rejected the idea of putting
on different clothes.
“Do I have to put a shirt on?” he
asked quietly, looping his arms around my waist, kissing my shoulder softly. I
giggled as his hair fell against my neck when I turned around.
“Baby, you don’t have to wear a
damn thing.”
“Is that an offer?” he asked, his
eyes lighting up with a feigned excitement. He reached for the button of his
jeans and started to un-do it until I grabbed his hands. I kissed his fingers
softly, reaching down and re-fastening the pants.
“Not when my sister’s home.” I
grinned broadly as him, dropping another soft kiss on his cheek even though it
required that I stood on the tip of my toes. I smiled softly, his arm draping
across my waist as I led him downstairs.
When left to the barstool at our
small kitchen island, he resumed his singing. “Every single time I see you, I
start to feel this way,” he began, giving me a challenging stare from where I
stood at the counter making a fruit salad with watermelon and honeydew.
It was then that Nicole stumbled
down the stairs, shooting me the soft look that we exchanged as sisters as she
heard Taylor’s beautiful voice wavering through the great acoustics our
high-ceilinged house offered. Bianca trailed behind, shooting wistful stares at
my boyfriend and a somewhat jealous gaze that just couldn’t be helped entering
her eyes as she looked over at me.
I saw the faint blush that rose
in his cheeks at Nicole’s knowing grin. Taylor was silent now, sitting with his
long arms stretched across the marble countertop. He had his back to me, bare
shoulders tanned, skin smooth.
Once again, Nicole shot me a
mischievous, teasing look. I only shook my head, though I grinned wildly. Yep,
Taylor was a hottie with an amazing voice, and he
loved me.
He grinned quite sheepishly at me
as I slid onto the stool beside him with the fruit, Bianca and Nicole now
chattering in front of the refrigerator. “I don’t have to tell you that you
have an amazing voice, do I?" I asked lightly, reaching for the fallen
hairs that hung in his eyes.
“No, but I like hearing you talk
anyway, so yeah.” He shot me a charismatic grin, his eyes lighting up with all
the affection and love he always showed me.
“Mmmk,”
I started, smiling broadly and dropping my arms over his shoulders. “You have
an absolutely amazing voice, that if angels sang, I would hear you. The soft
tones are enough to melt my soul and…” I was cut off as he brought his mouth to
mine, moving his lips slowly in a wonderfully lingering kiss.
“I love you,” he said quietly as
we broke apart, conscious of Bianca and Nicole shooting us looks of ‘get a
room’. He cupped my cheeks gently, holding me so our eyes gazed into each
other’s.
“I love you too.” I smiled softly
as he kissed my cheek lightly and then dove for the fruit I’d placed before
him, carefully licking off the whipped cream. I only shook my head and walked
over to the refrigerator, grabbing a
bottle of water before returning to the counter. Taylor had devoured all the
fruit I had given him and was staring at me with the pleading look of the lazy
boy that he was. And I, being the loving girlfriend, got up and got him some
more fruit. Then I went back to nibbling the amount I had given myself. I
didn’t usually eat breakfast, but I didn’t want to get bullshit from Taylor
about not eating….
Eventually, Nicole and Bianca disappeared
to her room with the box of muffins and two cans of Pepsi.
Noticing a faint mark on his arm,
I reached for Taylor, tracing my nails over the faint crescent shape scar
shining white against his light tan. “Tay, what’s this from?” I asked quietly as
he looked at me again, lips stained from the watermelon.
“I dunno.
I think from when I was younger. Might have come from the incident with the
glass door.” He grinned sheepishly as tiny giggles escaped my lips.
“A glass door.” I couldn’t hold
it any longer and burst into laughter, letting my fingertips run over his left
temple where more jagged scars appeared. “You are so blond.”
“So are you!” he protested
instantly, lifting a lock of my ebony hair and holding it in front my eyes.
“State of mind, remember?”
“Do I have any scars from running
into a glass door?”
“No.” The answer came quietly,
muttered under his breath. And it came a good thirty seconds after I had asked.
“See!” I exclaimed triumphantly,
grinning proudly as I took his once-again empty bowl and placed it in the
dishwasher, discreetly dumping the remains of my own food.
I never ate breakfast.
I had to take a shower, so I left
him in my room with his laptop, determined to write down the lyrics he had come
up with for me. I showered, and got dressed, (little black tank-top, not so
low-cut, pair of loose jeans, sandals) before retreating back to my bedroom.
Taylor was sprawled on the floor, his arms tucked neatly under his head as he
observed my ceiling; fairies, wizards, dragons, castles, and other Medieval
creations that stretched endlessly.
“Did you do that?” he asked
thoughtfully, his eyes still locked on the different characters. One hand
fluttered lazily towards the sky before dropping back down to the ground.
“No, I wish! Skye did it for me,”
I explained, kneeling beside him. He grinned lightly, tickling my sides before
allowing himself to be coaxed into a sitting position. “You have to shower so
we can leave,” I interrupted him as he went to kiss me. I knew if we started
kissing now we would end up on my bed and…
“Where are we going?”
“I promised Skye we’d go visit
her. Her family’s got a house on a lake. C’mon,” I said softly, musing his hair
before standing. I tugged him to his feet, determined to get him into the
shower.
“Ok.” He sounded a little on the
dejected side as he plopped his bag on my bed. Probably a little disappointed
that we weren’t getting any of the alone time I knew he was hoping for.
By the time I finally got Taylor
out of the house, (the boy takes longer showers than I do), and dropped Nicole
off at Bianca’s, it was close to three when I finally pulled down the bumpy
driveway. The water shimmered brilliantly in the afternoon sunlight as I spied
Skye lounging in a hammock, her brother Dave on the ground, stereo beside them.
Her long legs draped over a hanging tree branch, a soft fan for the lazy
summer’s day heat.
After a fun afternoon of sun and
fun, broken only by a slight tension the mention of booze brought up from
Taylor, we left around ten. I could see that if I stayed longer I was going to
be tempted to stay the night. But I didn’t really want to. I wanted to be alone
in my house with Taylor while I could.
Taylor himself seemed to have let
go of his apprehension with the whole alcohol topic. Skye had fixed him a drink
similar to one I’d been sipping. Then he had consumed three more of them. Along
with a variety of other drinks. And what surprised me the most was how little
affect it all seemed to have on him… though he wasn’t sober. No, not by a long
shot.
“Ana...” His voice was slurred as
he looked at me with a dopey grin spread over his face. “I love you.” He leaned
over suddenly, kissing my cheek. “I love you so much.” His eyes were sincere as
he spoke, and I knew he was still Taylor. He was just a bit…. loose.
“I love you too, baby,” I
replied, kissing his cheek as he fastened his seatbelt. He had drunk a lot and
I didn’t really want to kiss him. Alcohol breath is not appetizing.
He was quiet for the rest of the
ride back, during which he seemed to lose some of the idiocy he’d drunk. When
we got into my room, I went to the bathroom to change into my own night
clothes, the now comfortably well-worn Victoria’s Secret pajamas. I came back
to find Taylor laying on my bed, T-shirt and pants folded neatly on top of his
bag. He looked over as I walked in, eyes seemingly clear again.
I sighed, waiting, while he went
into the bathroom. Brushed his teeth. Washed his face. Came back. He did look a
lot more sober, but the alcohol was still there. The boy had drunk a lot…
With the light out, I snuggled
close to him, his breath hot on my skin. “Tay, baby,” I started softly,
touching his silky skin lightly as I held onto him. “Is there something else…
in your past… that I don’t know?”
“What do you mean?” Once again, I
was astounded by the surprising clarity of his words, his voice.
“Like… I dunno.
You just seemed rather…. touchy… with the alcohol thing.” I stopped and left my
eyes closed, not really shocked by his immediate tensing. “You don’t have to
tell me.”
“Ana… there was some, ok, a lot
of drinking. It kinda went hand-in-hand with a lot of
the sleeping around. I was drunk half the time. Very, very drunk…” His voice
was quiet as he trailed off and he planted a gentle kiss on my forehead. The
tenseness was diminishing lightly, but it was still there.
I couldn’t help but giggle as a
thought occurred to me. How on earth did he manage to have sex with all those
girls when guys supposedly have…. problems…. having sex with that much alcohol
in their system?
“What?” he asked quietly,
shifting so I lay closer to him, his gentle touch holding me tight.
“I was just thinking, don’t guys
have… problems with sex when they’ve been drinking?” My voice erupted into
laughter again as I could feel his cheeks flaming under my touch.
“Really.” His voice was short and
to the point as he shifted his weight again. I discovered he was laying over me
now. “I’ve been drinking tonight, right?”
My response was cut off by his
mouth over mine, his demanding kiss enveloping me and my breath disappearing
someplace along the way. I grinned as he moved across my neck, but the grin
soon faded. The feelings he had brought up in me didn’t allow for amused grins.
I was too busy enjoying the feel of his lips on my skin to grin.
We were laying as close to each
other as humanly possible, pleasantly tangled together. And I could feel him
through the thin cotton of our clothes. He brought his mouth to mine again, his
kiss leaving me breathless.
“What’d you think of that little
myth?” he whispered softly in my ear, his voice throaty and husky as he nibbled
lightly on my ear. My response was to cup his cheeks gently in my hand and
bring his mouth to mine for another breath-stealing kiss. Right then, I didn’t
care if we stopped or not. But I guess Taylor did.
“No,” he whispered softly in my
ear as he started to settle beside me on the bed, chasing away my hands. I
wanted him so badly right then and it wouldn’t be easy for him to try and prove
me wrong when I said he wanted me. “I want to wait as long as we can.”
I frowned lightly in the
darkness. I wanted him so badly. We had the house to ourselves and nothing
would have to be muffled. We were in my bed, in my room, comfortable together.
I’d been on birth control since…
“Morgana?”
I realized he had been asking me something and I took a deep breath and sighed.
“Yeah?”
“I-I just want everything to be
right with us. I just want to do things right with you and it just doesn’t seem
right to me…” He sighed in the darkness, his fingertips stroking my back
lightly though my thin shirt.
“It’s alright, Taylor.” I
snuggled closer to him, resolving that he was right. It wasn’t right then. But
it didn’t mean I didn’t want it.
Cleanse the tide and ride the wave back into me,
Stay alert cause I’m obsessed,
Surely I can’t be depressed,
Could I be read if I was see-through,
Or would you just read my spine?”
I guess I got caught.
I guess Morgana found out about my old drinking
habits. Just as long as she never found out about… well, all that’s really not
important.
I was astounded with
myself for all the things I’d done. I couldn’t believe the amount of alcohol
I’d consumed the night before. I’d just kept pounding the drinks down as long
as people offered them to me. Skye was half-drunk and Dave was all but wasted. Morgana was fine because she was driving home, but the rest
of them… what did they care?
So yeah, I used to
drink a lot. I used to smoke too. But I gave up the smoking because of Morgana. Well, to be honest, half because of her and half
because of my throat. The cigarettes were starting to affect my voice. And that
could just not happen.
And I had stopped
drinking as much. I guess partially because the lifestyle that I had led
previous to Morgana had made the alcohol a lot more
accessible. Getting drinks would be a lot easier at the wild parties I used to
be a regular attendee of, as opposed to my own bedroom where I tended to spend
a lot more time.
Not that I really
cared all that much. I was happier when I was desperately missing Morgana, when I thought that my heart might just snap, than
I had ever been with the crowds of people and booze and…
All of this came
filtering back to me as I lay with her in her bed. She was still fast-asleep,
her pretty eyes shut against the bright sunshine that streamed through her
thick velvet curtains. Careful not to wake her up, I picked up her cross from
around my neck. I didn’t really know if it was still hers, or if I had had it
long enough for it to be mine.
I smiled softly as I
recalled the previous afternoon at the lake. She had tried to outsmart me,
yeah, she had tried. But I had gotten her back. Her arms just flying up and her
mouth open in a curious little ‘o’ as she fell to the water… but then sitting with her in my arms had been
blissful.
As I moved slightly to
adjust my position so it was more comfortable, I winced lightly. My shoulders,
my back, my chest… it all hurt. Damn sunburn. Damn fair complexion.
But that time in the
sun had been worth it, I decided. My girlfriend still fast asleep beside me and
the clock telling me that it was only eight, I let my eyes slide shut again.
Somehow, when I woke
up again, it was to find her watching me. Emerald eyes lit up as I gazed back
at her, one hand reaching for her soft cheek. “Mmm,
morning,” I mumbled quietly, snuggling closer to her.
“Actually, it’s one
o’clock. We’re both bums.” She giggled lightly as my eyes snapped open and
looked at the clock. Sure enough, the numbers read 1:12.
“Alright, so we’re
bums. But we’re bums together.” I gave her a soft look before cuddling up to
her again. She was so soft, so comfortable to lean against… everything about
her was wonderful. If she had some sort of fatal flaw, then I sure as hell
couldn’t find it. “What time do you have to pick Nicole up?”
“Three.” Her voice was
soft as she looked over at me again, stroking my cheek lightly with her silky
fingers. “Which means that you and I have plenty of time to lay here together.”
“I like the sound of
that,” I replied, letting my body weight shift over her. I wiggled my toes
lightly over her feet, laughing at her cute smile.
“Stop that!” She
laughed quietly, lightly hitting my chest and giggling helplessly. “You’re not
nice!”
“Yes I am,” I
protested lightly, ceasing my tickling of her and running one hand over her
mouth, her lips slightly parted as she watched me. Her mouth was so inviting
like that, lips damp and shiny.
I leaned down to kiss
her softly, entranced by her body against mine. It was like we had always been
together and she knew just how to hold me, just how to caress my skin under her
fingertips. Our bodies responded to each others easily, knowing the touch and
the feel of our flesh. It was more tantalizing than any of the other girls I
had ever been with, but not only for
that reason. It was because there was a strong current of love sizzling in the
air, a current that tugged and manipulated our souls.
Her body was warm as
we lay together, the thin cotton of her shirt pressed against my bare chest. I
knew I had had the opportunity the night before to have sex with her and I
probably would again in another few moments, but it wasn’t right.
And I can’t quite
explain why I felt that way, but I did. After all the girls I had had, it just
didn’t seem right to me with her. Even if we were in love, it wasn’t right. I
didn’t know when it would be right, but I would wait until it was.
Which is why I found
myself taking her hands away from the edge of my boxers, kissing her fingertips
before laying my head against her breast. I listened to the racing of her heart
and wondered if perhaps my own raced with nearly the same speed. Her breath was
warm as it fell across my cheeks, her lips soft as she kissed my forehead. “I love you, Ana.”
“I love you too,
baby,” she replied quietly, her fingers toying with my hair in a lazy, slow manner
that spoke of days laying together without a care in the world. I found myself
relaxed in her arms, completely trusting her. And it was a sensation that I
couldn’t remember ever feeling in the arms of a girl.
“What was different
about me, Taylor?” she asked quietly, breaking into my thoughts as her fingers
continued to wind through my blond locks. “What made me be a girl you didn’t
just want to take to your room and fuck?”
“Honestly, that’s what
I wanted when I saw you,” I told her truthfully. There was no point in lying.
“But I don’t know. I started talking to you and you just understood me so
perfectly. You didn’t look at me with that thought in your eyes of just wanting
me to take you. You just sat there and talked and laughed and let me talk. You didn’t
talk to me as Taylor from Hanson, you just talked to me as Taylor. It was
refreshing to meet somebody who understood. And I sat there and wondered how
the hell I could have even thought about fucking you and then just disappearing
to another girl’s room.” I found I was explaining things to myself as well as
to her as I spoke in long sentences that were tentative in the silence of her
breathing. I toyed lightly with the edge of her shirt, twisting and winding it
into my fingers.
She was silent,
fingers continuing to ruffle my hair in that affectionate way she had. I was
thankful for her silence, for her not asking more questions on a subject that I
myself wasn’t all that happy with. My past haunted me enough. I really didn’t
want to delve back into it and go through with a fine-tooth comb.
* * *
Nicole was sprawled
across the armchair in the corner of the room, staring listlessly at the TV.
Her soft green eyes so similar to Morgana’s were
vacant towards the scene unfolding on the screen, a couple engaged in a rather
passionate scene.
We were watching ‘The
Beach’ in Morgana’s living room and the character of
Rich was having a grand time fucking his companion.
She looked over at me
and grinned knowingly, inching closer so our bodies held each others. Her mouth
grazed over mine, a tease that she knew I loved and hated at the same time.
Nicole only rolled her
eyes and sighed. She looked up at us again only once the movie had ended,
watching her sister as she stretched and her shirt lifted to just below her
bust. Well, more accurately, she watched me watch her sister. “You two going to
bed?” she asked, voice light and teasing. I grinned back, slipping a
hand in the back pocket of Morgana’s jeans.
“Yep,” I told her,
laughing as Morgana swatted at my hand and shot me a
dirty look.
“Good night, Nic. I’m going to see Trent tomorrow. You want to come?”
she asked her as we began walking out, almost as an afterthought. Nicole bit
her lip and frowned slightly.
“Did Mom ever agree?”
“Yeah, I think she
did. Even if she didn’t, you know Trent… he’ll still do it,” she assured her.
What were they talking
about?
“We’ll see,” Nicole
replied as we began walking out of the room. I heard the TV switch over to MTV
as we left and Nicole’s soft voice singing along to 9 Days.
“Who’s Trent?” I asked
curiously as we walked into Morgana’s room, the door
sliding shut behind us and plunging the room into silence.
“A friend of mine.”
“Why are we going to
see him?” I asked patiently as Morgana climbed into
her bed after hitting the lights. She snuggled up close to me before replying,
“Because he’s going to do a tattoo for me for free.”
“You’re getting a
tattoo?” I said incredulously, my jaw nearly dropping. She only drew herself
closer to me, a smile stretched across her face in the darkness.
“Yeah, a fairy.” She
didn’t explain anything further than that, only curling closer again to me, her
toes cold against mine. Her breath was warm against me as she breathed softly,
quietly. In, out, in, out.
“Where?” I asked
curiously after a few moments of silence. I tried to brush away the thoughts I
entertained of all the possibilities. Lots and lots of possibilities.
“On my back, real
low.” Her voice was playful and she settled herself up on her elbows so she
could look at me in the darkness. “Why?” Her fingertip traced a pattern across
my bare chest and then she looked back at me with clear, innocent eyes. “Does
the idea intrigue you?”
“Yeah,” I breathed
softly, taking her face in my hands and kissing her with the hunger of a
starving man. Though she hardly kept me starving. Her mouth was seductive and
delicious as it came back to my own again and again, pausing to drink in the
skin of my neck. She kissed the tip of my ear, her tongue swirling around the
delicate silver hoop, tickling the sensitive skin into a wonderful ecstasy. Her
mouth wandered back to mine, stealing my breath away with her own appetite
feeding from mine.
It was then that a
realization dawned on me, with now-familiar Staind
lyrics filtering through my mind again. Another sleepless night again, I think
not. And hotel rooms were definitely not my only friend. Fuck it, we weren’t
even on speaking terms with me.
Liberate the
people that you hate,
Then cut
yourself again,
Elevate than
drop back down,
And see which
ones remain,
Remember that
all she can say,
Is that she
knows she wants it…
He kissed my fingers to wake me
up, gently moving his mouth across the soft flesh of my hands. I smiled
sleepily at him as his moist lips left soft prints of my flesh. I grinned in
laughter as his kisses dropped over my palms, down to my wrist…
(no,
not my wrists)
I tried to tug my hand away from
him, smiling softly and telling him, alright, I was awake. But he didn’t let
go.
He only smiled, turning my hand
so it was palm up. Leaned down and kissed me again as I looked on in panic at
the faint lines that were so painfully obvious. He hadn’t noticed them yet and
the moment was so perfect. I knew that he wouldn’t see the lines as he kissed
me, but…
Then he stopped. Suddenly and
without a reason. And looked at me with a dumbfounded expression on his face.
He held my wrist with a strained and insistent grip that seamed desperate. When
he spoke, his voice was taunt, forced to be gentle. “Morgana,
what, what is this?”
I didn’t have to look down to
know what he was talking about. Once spotted, the scars were blinding. I knew
his eyes kept restoring the image to his mind. I didn’t resist as he ripped my
other hand into his grasp, his eyes tearing to the scar that ran parallel to my
veins.
“Morgana!”
His voice had grown shrill, desperate sounding as he looked at me, imploring me
with those beautiful eyes. I didn’t say anything, didn’t cry, didn’t move. I
had always known it would be a matter of time before he discovered the scars. I
had honestly expected it to be a lot sooner.
“What does it look like?” It was
a simple question spoken dully and evenly, without a hint of emotion. I didn’t
meet his frantic gaze, didn’t try to take back my hands.
“Morgana?”
His voice was tiny sounding. He dropped my hands and stared at me, just stared.
Then he fell silent.
Only when his silence had become
deafening, he spoke again. “Do you want to tell me what, what happened?”
Then I looked at him, and instead
of seeing the look of failure and the disappointment I expected to find, I saw
concern, hurt, and a twinge of fear. Not for himself, but for me. I still saw
his intense love for me burning brightly.
I opened my mouth to begin
speaking, my voice seemingly steady. “Baby,” I started, gazing into his eyes.
But that was as far as I got because the floodgates opened and I was sobbing in
earnest. My breath was gone and I couldn’t breathe and the tears streamed down
my cheeks, dampening Taylor’s shoulders as he held me tightly against him. I
was drowning in my own tears in his embrace as he rocked me gently back and
forth. He didn’t speak of the scars, just whispered to me that he loved me. It
was going to be ok. He wasn’t going to leave me. He wanted to be there for me.
Always. Forever.
I sniffled again, not wanting him
to unwind his arms from around me. I liked his warmth, both literally and
metaphorically. But he did pull away, holding my shoulders, looking at me with
a loving firmness. He didn’t have to say anything.
“Can you just hold me?” I
whispered quietly, imploring him with my watery eyes.
“Of course.” His arms encircled
me again, strong and secure and filled with the love that I took in from every
vent of his body. I didn’t want him to be hurt even though I knew he was. He
was hurt that I hadn’t told him…
“I’m sorry,” I said very softly
in his ear, wanting to start bawling all over again as his strong grip held me
to him. His shoulders were tense, hard as I clutched his body to me.
“For what?”
“For not… telling you about…
everything…” I sighed, a ragged breath that I was surprised came from my mouth.
“I should have been honest.” He kept silent, releasing me as I leaned back, my
hands hidden in the folds of the sheets. I took another shaky breath, not
looking at Taylor as I picked up the phone. I called Trent and told him that I
probably wouldn’t be by until late afternoon. He said it was cool and hung up.
“Baby, I-“ My voice broke as I
looked into his eyes. They were pained and so very wounded behind the icy blue
color. He was watching me with a blank stare, a blank stare that tore into my
heart. The stare was broken as he took my hands from under the blankets and
traced the lines with the tip of his finger.
“How long ago?” It was simple
question, a question that was asked in a voice roughened and choked. Now he
refused to look at me and I almost longed to see those beautiful eyes of his,
even if they were hurt.
“May.”
It seemed he was slightly
relieved by the answer and it suddenly dawned on me that he thought I had done
it while I had been with him, that he blamed himself for it. With the answer
that it had been done in May, the burden didn’t fall directly on him.
“After the… after Matt?”
“Yes.” My voice caught in my
throat again as the tears I had strove to control spilled forward again. The
memories flooded back, so intensely, of standing in my bathroom with a knife
that I had carefully slid free of its sheath. An old knife that had been my
dad’s. It was sharp and cut easily, smoothly, the flesh parting and a red line
spurting up from the cut. The pain hadn’t registered until I had collapsed to
the tiles.
Now I was falling again,
collapsing against the bed, but Taylor’s arms caught me. He held me to him, his
comforting hands on my back, massaging in smooth circles in an attempt to calm
me. He dropped soft kisses over my cheeks, my forehead, kissing away the tears.
Held me like he would hold a small child, cradled in his arms, held to him
tightly. Leaned back against my wall and closed his eyes, hands attempting to
soothe me.
“You want me to tell you the whole
story?” I finally asked in a tiny voice, sliding off his lap and onto the bed
beside him. He lay down, putting his head in my lap and looking up at me with
sympathetic and loving eyes. Nodded after a moment, taking my hand and winding
his fingers through. His lips grazed my knuckles softly, then he was still.
“Alright,” I began quietly,
knowing that if I spoke any louder I would start bawling again. I had never
told anyone the full story, not like I was about to tell Taylor. I hadn’t
needed to go into detail in the court proceedings. The medical testing had been
enough evidence; my bruises and his fingerprints all over my body had proved it
all. So I didn’t have to sit there and spill everything. The courts didn’t know
about my suicide attempt. They didn’t know the pain that I had endured that
night.
“I knew Matt from school. He was
friends with my friends, a nice guy. Real attractive, funny. Always made me
laugh. I flirted with him a lot, and I used to dress in a lot of revealing
clothes. Nothing slutty or trashy, but revealing none
the less. I knew I had a nice body and figured I would show it off while I had
the chance.”
“You are beautiful,” Taylor cut
in softly, raising one of his hands to my cheek and brushing his fingers
against my skin. His thumb slid across my lips before he let his hand fall
again, squeezing my fingers that rested in his other hand tightly.
I smiled sadly at his affection
before continuing, “When he asked me out, I didn’t refuse. I was un-attached,
and like I said, I thought he was a great guy. We decided to go to Rhode Island
for the day, go out to dinner and then go walk on the beach. It seemed like a
romantic idea and I love the beach.
“So that night, I got dressed up.
It was a rather warm night, being near the end of May, so I wore a short dress
with these thin spaghetti-straps. It was pretty low-cut, but it was nice. Like
I said, classy. I took a black sweater to put around my shoulders and left with
Matt.
“Dinner was fine. What ended up
happening was completely un-expected. He was polite, courteous. Refused to let
me pay for any of the meal. He took my hand as we left the restaurant, kissed
me on the cheek. And I shot him this sultry look, with a little poutty lip and…”
My voice broke off and I took a
deep breath. This was the hardest part of the story. But I had to tell Taylor.
I had to… I loved him and he had a right to know about my past. For the sake of
our relationship, he had to know.
Taylor himself kept silent,
stroking my hand softly with his thumb. He didn’t look at me and for that I was
grateful. He only snuggled closer to me, pulling me down so I lay beside him.
His arms encircled me, laying my head against his shoulder. Our hands were
still entwined and he squeezed my fingers tightly.
“I was just flirting with him,
being playful. I was like that. So I didn’t mind when we stopped on a secluded
stretch of beach. The moon was out and it was beautiful, the last touches of
sunlight fading from the sky in the west. We lay down on the sand and started
making out.
“He-he didn’t stop when I told
him to do, pushing up my dress. H-he yelled at me to shut-up, to stop
screaming. Not like anyone would hear me anyway. He yelled, ‘Help! Help!’ just
to prove his point, laughing as I cried. He was hurting me already, his knees digging
into my sides. Told me I was a little whore and I that I was going to get what
was coming to me. Said I wanted it, that my crying was going to make it better
for him. That it was better like, like this. He said I was, was going to make a
great porn star someday. I was good at turning guys on with my crying, with my
pleading.”
As the words twisted free, I
forced the air through my lungs, trying not to look into Taylor’s eyes. He was
forcing himself to listen, to remain still. But his jaw was tight, his eyes
blazing. He squeezed my hand tightly but didn’t kiss me. Just held me to him,
softly, gently.
“He started hitting me, slapping
my face. He… he hit me everywhere, holding me down with one hand and hitting me
with the other. I just cried, trying not to scream from the pain. I didn’t want
to give him the satisfaction that I knew the tears alone was already giving
him.
“And then he actually raped me,
laughing while he did. He spit in my face and laughed. I passed out while he
was doing it, biting my lip till it bled and finally grateful for the
blackness. When I woke up I was on my porch, my dress ripped and my purse
laying neatly on my lap. Nothing was stolen.”
I laughed cynically at that. Oh,
I had remembered laughing when I discovered that. It was funny then and it was
funny now.
“I tried to stand to open the
door, but my legs wouldn’t support me. My thighs burned, my stomach throbbed.
My eye was swollen on one side, my lips bled. So I knocked my purse against the
door until Nicole heard and came and found me.
“The next three hours were a mess
of doctors, cold and impersonal. Frigid examination rooms, frosty rubber
gloves. A paper robe that was chilling as the metal table, the metal
instruments. Pills that made me thrown up for hours were shoved into my body.
Pictures taken of everything. Tests and tests and more tests.
“Then came the police. I sat for
another two hours talking with an officer, an officer who asked me what kind of
girl I was. He spoke to me like I was a common whore. Until my mother had had
enough. She went off on him, telling him her daughter was innocent and to stop
making excuses for the son of a bitch who’d raped her. That if something
serious wasn’t done, and done now, she was taking the case to the press.
Everyone was going to know that the Manchester police wouldn’t do a damn thing
for a girl who’d been raped.
“So finally we left, after they
made me identify Matt. Made me point to him and say, he did it. That was the
one. Facing him then, only hours after I had been raped, was one of the hardest
things I had ever done in my entire life.”
I stopped in my story again,
sliding my eyes shut and squeezing them tightly against the memory of Matt’s
snide grin. Him mouthing ‘whore’ at me through the glass. Taylor was still
silent beside me, his entire body tense with a rage that he knew he would never
be able to satisfy. I took another shaky breath and continued.
“The court hearing was short and
I only had to say a few things. He was sent away to prison and when he gets
out, will have no knowledge of anything having to do with me. I still have an
active restraining order.
“After it was all over, it was
just after school ended. That was the first week of June, so I guess I lied. I
did it in June. I-I, was really depressed. All the things he had said to me,
they all made sense. Why else would he have done it? I must have instigated him
somehow. I really was a little whore. And that was something I couldn’t stand
to be.
“So, I found one of my dad’s old
knives. Remembered carefully that I had to cut the lines vertically, not
horizontally. And sliced the knife clear through one side. Then the other. And
watched in sick fascination as blood poured from my arms. Then blacked out as I
hit the bathroom floor.
“The next thing I remember was
laying in a hospital bed. And I guess I got better. Lots of therapy. Lots of
days just crying myself to sleep, wishing I had succeeded. Then I met you.” I
smiled sadly at him, watching as he sat up and looked at me. He cupped my chin
gently and planted a very soft, gentle kiss on my mouth. I was gathered into
his arms and then came his husky, choked voice. “I’m so sorry Morgana.”
Such a simple thing he said, such
a phrase that wouldn’t really do anything, but it touched my heart. I let him
take me into his arms, holding me tightly. Then he did something that I never
expected.
Reaching for one hand, he raised
my wrist to his lips. He stared deeply into the bottoms of my eyes, then
lowered his gaze, his mouth to the scar that ran a good two inches. He dropped
gentle kisses along the length of the scar and then repeated the process with
my other wrist.
The tears that drizzled down my
face in the next moment were tears of happiness, tears that came from watching
him do something incredibly sweet and genuinely loving. His arms circled me
again and held me to him, his sweet-smelling hair and his wonderful scent
enveloping me.
“Taylor, there’s, there’s
something else you should know. My father’s knife, well, he never missed it
because he’s dead. He died when I was eight,” I whispered quietly, relieved
that the statement didn’t hurt so much.
He remained
silent then. Instead of his words, his arms tightened around me, his kiss was
feather-soft against my shoulder.
And I’m water while
you drown,
You’re lifted while
I’m down,
A cancer in your womb,
I’m the needle in your
spoon...
She was silent for a
long time, holding on to me in the quiet of her house. I figured Nicole must
still be asleep, or she was being very quiet. Either way, it was still in the house.
Looking at her face
pressed to my neck, I caught sight of the crescent-shaped scar she had been
looking at the other day. No, it wasn’t the glass door that did that. I knew
exactly where that had come from. And after all she had just told me, I didn’t
know if telling her my past would be good or bad. But I knew it was right.
“Morgana,”
I began quietly, pulling away slightly so I could look her in the eye. “You’ve
been honest with me about your past. I think I need to be honest with you about
mine.”
She looked at me with
a hint of surprise in her eyes, a question on her lips. Then she snuggled
against me, sighing softly. “Baby, I thought… there’s more?”
“Yeah, there’s more,”
I said in a tone that revealed that there was a hell of a lot more. “I, I really
don’t know how to begin.” I stopped then. I couldn’t tell her this. I couldn’t
sit here and take in her pain. Besides, she had an appointment with Trent.
“You know what, Ana?
Now’s not the time for this. There’s a lot to tell and you have an appointment
with Trent. We’ll go down there, and I’ll figure out how I’m going to… explain
this. I’m not too sure how I’m supposed to be able to tell you all of this.” I
kissed her cheek gently, ignoring the look she shot me.
She grabbed my arm as
I started to stand. “Baby, tell me now. You don’t have to put anything nicely
and delicately for me.” But there was pain in her eyes as she spoke and I knew
she was thinking that there was something about another girl there. It wasn't
that though. That’s the thing.
“I won’t. But I’m
telling you, there’s a lot to tell. So we’ll go see Trent, get some Chinese
food and lay on your couch and watch a movie and pretend that we’re a normal
couple. We’ll pretend that I’m not leaving in two days to go back to the
‘pop-star’ life thousands of miles away. Pretend that neither of us have a
nasty past. Whatever we want. We’re going to be happy tonight.” I looked at her
firmly and when she opened her mouth to protest, I took her suddenly into my
arms. I kissed her roughly, knowing that my kiss would leave her breathless.
When I pulled away, it
was settled. There would be no discussion of anything horrible, no rape, no…
our pasts’ were dead for the night.
We stopped for Chinese
food as promised following the adventure into a rather seedy tattoo shop. A
beautiful fairy now winged over Morgana’s lower back,
and I had already managed to hurt the poor girl a few times.
Damned tattoo.
Before I knew it, we
were curled up on her couch together. The idea of a movie had been scrapped,
but there were candles lit all over the room and incense burned softly in the
corner.
Morgana had
paid Nicole off and sent her to Bianca’s for the night.
Around us was the
quilt from her bed, warm and comforting. Her cheeks were flushed lightly from
warmth, her hair sloppily thrown back with tiny tendrils handing down. She wore
a pair of flannel pants and a black tank-top that looked deliciously well-worn.
I wore a pair of gray sweatpants, battered from many a Sunday wandering hotel
rooms and my own home. And of course, the ever present wife-beater, far from
the bright white it had once been.
I laughed quietly as
she struggled with the clumsy chopsticks, but finally managed to get the
noodles onto the sticks and raise it to my mouth. She was cute in that moment.
I swallowed before I
spoke. “Ana, this is perfect, ya know?” I dug around
in the carton that I held before raising an expertly picked up bite of rice. I
watched her as she ate, smiling softly once again. “I love you.”
She looked back at me
with those beautiful eyes from the rainforest trees, a faint shimmer created by
the candlelight. “I love you too.” A delicate smile stretched across her lips
as she cuddled closer to me and, this time her skill a little better, brought
more of the Chinese food to my mouth.
Our legs were
stretched across each other’s, a pleasant tangle of limbs. The house was warm,
with the windows open to the sultry summer night and the crickets chirping in
the woods beyond.
“What’s your favorite
color?” I asked her suddenly, realizing I didn’t know most of those little
intimate details about her.
“Where’d that come
from?” Her voice was slightly amused as she looked up at me, swallowing the
rice I brought to her lips. “Um, I’d have to say a really deep purple. What’s
yours?”
“You don’t know? My,
and you called yourself a fan!” I laughed at the sheepish grin she gave me,
planting a soft kiss on her cheek to let her know I was just joking. “Red,
color of love.”
“I thought it was
because it makes the world beautiful,” she whispered back softly, giving me a
chagrin smile.
“Oh, that too.” I gave
her a sly look. “So maybe you were a true fan.” I got another look for the
comment. “Alright, so if you could be anywhere in the world, where would it be?
We’d be together, of course.”
“Hmm…” Her mouth
curled into a smile that was all her own and I loved. “I would be in a house on
the beach in a warm place. Maybe the Mediterranean, maybe the Caribbean, maybe
the south Pacific. And we would be laying together in bed with the window open
to a soft night breeze, the moon shining in on us. And your gorgeous blue eyes
would shine so beautifully in the moonlight as you looked over at me and the
only other light would be three candles on a shelf on the far side of the
room.” She grinned softly at me in the candlelight that flooded her living
room, noticing I was watching her mouth. I wanted to kiss her; her mouth was so
tempting.
“You know,” I started
softly, gazing in her eyes, “I’ll be eighteen in March. And you’ll be eighteen
in February. We could do that. We could disappear to some island in the middle
of nowhere and nobody would be able to find us there.” My eyes burned as I
gazed at her, brought one hand to her lips, ran my fingers over them, marveling
at their softness.
“Tay, I don’t have the
money for that,” she said quietly, looking down.
“I do.” I tipped her
chin back up so her eyes gazed at mine and dropped a gentle kiss on her mouth.
“We’ll go. And nobody can stop us.”
“I’ll still be living
at home. And I have school, and…” I silenced her with another kiss, setting the
near-empty Chinese-food box on her coffee table. The empty box she had been
holding was relinquished to the table as well as we lay back against the couch
cushions, her quilt over us. I held her, just the way I knew she liked, with the
strength I possessed, but so gently… God, did I love her.
“So I’ll kidnap you,”
I told her as I pulled away, smiling at her soft giggles. “Yeah, that’s it.
I’ll kidnap you and leave a ransom note. You know what I’ll demand for your
return?”
“What?” Her voice was
light and playful, my hands going to tickle her sides to ensure their presence.
“A week with you.”
* * *
Waking up beside her
was the most wonderful feeling in the world. Her arms around me, her soft
breath warm against my cheek… it was just delicious.
But there were two
things nagging at the back of my mind as I woke up that morning: I was leaving
the next day. And my past.
I pushed away the bad
with thoughts of the good. It wasn’t just an idle fantasy I had promised Morgana the night before. I was going to do it. I’d take
her during the last week of March, first week of April. Plenty of time to
purchase everything after I turned eighteen. I would tell Isaac where I’d gone
and then come and get her.
I was going to leave a
ransom note. Of course, it would be signed by me and it would be playful. The
Polaroid picture I was going to leave would be her and I wrapped in a loving
hug with bright smiles.
It’s going to be
great, I thought now, a happy smile spreading across my face. An entire week with
just the two of us… no reporters out on an island in the middle of the ocean. I
would find a secluded place, where it was mainly just locals. An island with
one of those little markets, where we could rent a cottage on the shore for a
week. And it would be just the two of us.
Of course, I wouldn’t
tell Morgana when I was coming. I would just show up
and take her away. Give her ten minutes to pack some things. After all, what
would she really need for a week on the beach? A few bathing suits, some tank-tops?
It was going to be beautiful there, and I would have her all to myself. And she
would have me free of a pager or a manager or my family. Or press.
I couldn’t wait for
it.
I had eight months to
wait.
I looked at her
sleeping form, a broad grin curling my lips again. She was by far the most
beautiful person I had ever known. Sweet, caring, loving…
But I hid things from
her.
Shit, I thought mildly
as I looked at her once more. She looked so innocent, as she slept with her
eyes fluttered shut and her lips parted slightly. I had to tell her. Had to
tell her about…
This was going to be
harder than I thought it would be.
She woke up as I lay
beside her, staring at her elaborate ceiling that might have been straight from
a fairy tale. The colors were brilliant, the intricate detail amazing. Skye was
a talented artist.
“Morning, baby,” she
murmured quietly, her voice raw with sleep as she snuggled closer.
“Morning.” I had to
tell her. This was driving me insane. I should have told her yesterday. I was
prolonging this too much. “Morgana, I have to tell
you some things.”
“Alright.”
“Well,” I started,
carefully stroking her bare arm softly with my callused fingertips, “About my
past… there’s some really dark things. Some… really bad things happened. I was
involved in… horrible things.
“Um,” I continued, my
voice stuttering in nervousness, “I was living a lifestyle no one should live.
Lots and lots of girls. Lots of drinking. Lots of drugs.” I paused, trying to
gauge her reaction to this. She kept silent, looking at me with eyes that
refused to betray a hint as to what she was feeling.
“The drugs… I was
never an addict. I don’t know how I managed to not become one, but I wasn’t
addicted. I didn’t really smoke anything because I was worried about my throat.
Instead, I did the harder things. I dropped a lot of acid and…” I paused in my
story again, lifting my arm to look carefully for the tell-tale dots that were
sprinkled haphazardly. “Shot up a lot.”
“With what?”
“Heroin mostly.” My
head fell forward and my cheeks burned lightly with shame despite myself. I had
been really stupid, made some really fucked-up mistakes. But the even sadder
thing about it was that I was seventeen. I had been fifteen when I had gotten
into the drug world.
“You’re off it though,
right?”
“Yeah.” I looked over
at her. Her eyes were still carefully devoid of emotion. She was still beside
me, even though her arms remained locked around me and she still had that
gentle warmth in her limbs, but…
“There’s more,” I said
softly, squeezing my eyes shut. I took a deep breath. “The scar on my arm, the
crescent shaped one? That’s not from the glass door. It was a mark put there by
a dealer. He put it on all his best customers so we wouldn’t go to someone
else, among other reasons.” I looked at the scar again, remembering the searing
pain of having it etched out. But I had been tripping at the time so I hadn’t
thought it was so bad. I had barely felt it, come to think of it. That was
while they were doing it anyway.
“Those dreams,” she
asked suddenly, looking at me carefully. “Did you do something that brought
about those dreams?”
“I didn’t do anything,
no. But… someone I knew did. I saw it. Everything about me was hushed up with
it so no one ever found out. We would all be screwed if it did.”
I sighed heavily. She
was watching me, watching me intently. With those eyes. Those damned eyes.
“There was this girl… she scammed the guy I told you about, the dealer. I
didn’t know she had… she was just another girl to me. It had been arranged that
I was going to meet her, so I found out later. One of the guys dropped me off
where they knew she would be.
“I, I fucked her like
I did all the other girls, but as I was leaving, there were a bunch of guys.
They had knives and guns. I was shoved out into the hall, and she just kept
screaming and screaming. I couldn’t move; I was just paralyzed.
“The guys left with
her body, what seemed like an eternity later, and I remember one of them winked
at me and mouthed ‘thanks’. I went back in the room. There was blood everywhere
and it got all over me as I searched for my wallet. I found it, shoved it in my
back pocket, and went back to the hotel room. I never did anything about what
I’d seen. I just went back to buy more drugs the next night before I left New
York.” The guilt I had tried so hard to bottle up came flooding back in the
silence that mingled between us. I didn’t know what she thought of me then, if
she saw me as some sort of criminal. If she feared me now. I didn’t know. I
just hoped that my fucked up past hadn’t just cost me the best thing that I had
in my life. But I’d had to tell her.
“You never said
anything to anyone?” she finally asked, her voice apathetic and emotionless.
“Didn’t this girl have a family that wanted to know what happened? Friends?”
I shook my head. No,
she had been a whore whose parents had thrown her out. No family to miss her. I
had asked people about her and they had hissed at me not to mention her ever
again.
She got up and walked
across her room, leaving me in her bed. I didn’t follow her; didn’t try to get
her to come back to me. She removed clothes from her closet, didn’t even look
at me as I lay there, and left. When the water turned on in the bathroom, I lay
very still and blinked back tears I refused to shed.
So it appeared I had
screwed up really badly this time. I loved her with all my heart and now I had
most likely scared the living shit out of her. She was silent to me, hid her
emotions. She had never hid her emotions from me, even when I first met her.
And she was the one who was slow to let people in.
I couldn’t take it. I
couldn’t take the pain of not even knowing what she was thinking. I couldn’t
handle not knowing what was going on in that beautiful mind of hers, the mind
that raced so speedily that I had no clue as to what ridiculous thoughts might
be forming.
I got up quickly, not
bothering to think about what I was doing. I knew her shower used a curtain
that I couldn’t see through. So I opened the bathroom door and stepped into the
warm steam.
“Taylor?” Her voice was
cold as it wavered over the rushing of the water. “What are you doing?”
“Coming in here to
talk to you.”
“I’m taking a shower!”
she snapped back. Her irritated voice made me wince.
“I’m aware.”
“Then why are you in
here?” she replied tersely. Her tone was frigid.
“Because I love you
and hate that you’re upset with me.” The water turned off and her head poked
out of the side of the shower curtain.
“Get out so I can get
dressed.” Her eyes were rock hard, unflinching. I did as I was told, leaving
wordlessly. Lay on her bed, waiting for her. Breathed in her delicious scent
and hoped she wouldn’t say what I deserved to hear.
“Alright, you who
think you can say some magical words, what do you want to tell me?” I winced
again as the razor sharp words sliced through my heart. She sat down on her
desk chair, her glare unsettling.
“What do you want me to say?” I replied wearily,
sitting up and folding my long legs into an Indian-style position.
“I don’t believe there
is anything you can say.”
“Jesus Morgana, I try and be honest with you, try and tell you
up-front so I’m not accused of lying…”
“You think that’s an
excuse? You were just being honest so I have no reason to be upset. You
witnessed a murder and never said
anything!” She scowled at me, her pretty little mouth twisted into an ugly
snarl.
“No, I don’t think
it’s an excuse-”
“Taylor, you were more
concerned about your damned name and
your damned career and your damned drugs than a girl’s life!” she cut me off sharply, words slung violently across the room.
Her eyes betrayed only her fury, nothing more. No love. No affection. No sign
of forgiveness.
“What the hell as I
supposed to think? You stood by and let her die!”
she screamed suddenly, standing, glowering at me. “Maybe she was raped
then! Did you ever think of what they did to her? I was raped, Taylor! I know
what that’s like! Did you ever think of
that!!” Her voice was painfully shrill, agonizingly loud as she jumped to
her feet. All that was reserved for me in her eyes behind the fury was a look
of disgust.
“Yes, Morgana, I did think of that. I-I’ve thought about that
girl everyday since it happened. I c-can’t stop
thinking about it. I carry the guilt around everyday. I-I hear her screaming in
the back of my mind, everyday. But I-I can’t take it back, Morgana.
I-I can’t take back the past.” My voice failed and all I could do was hope
against hope that she would forgive me. Or not even to forgive me for it, but
agree to still love me. She didn’t have to forgive. I didn’t forgive myself,
why should she?
“That’s the point Taylor.”
“Laying lost and
wounded, just myself to blame,
Have no life and
being hand-fed pain,
Head’s a crying
wasteland, filled with shame,
Cried for help
before and nobody came…
“To see what I
can lose again, for being the victim...”
Deafening silence.
That’s the only way I could
accurately describe my house after the exchange. Taylor had gone into the
basement with his laptop after my final words, muttering something incoherent
about how he would ‘just leave me alone now’. There were tears in his eyes as
he walked away, tears I knew he wouldn’t cry. He was too damn proud. His
precious pride would keep him from shedding a single tear.
Nasty little girl, aren’t we? I
thought as I lay back on my bed and stared at the ceiling. But then again, it
was deserved nastiness.
What did he expect me to do? Just
say, alright baby, a girl died and you did nothing,
but let’s make out now? You were a heroin addict, oh excuse me, you were never
an addict. You were a heroin user, but it’s alright. You’ve got a drug dealer’s
imprint on your arm and that’s ok? A scar we laughed and joked about as coming
from a child’s innocence was the mark of his past, his dirty, filthy past.
I wasn’t upset with him so much
about his past. That’s the thing. I knew he couldn’t take it back and to an
extent, I was grateful that he had at least been honest and not left all this
someplace in the recesses of his mind.
But it was the fact that he
wanted me to be instantly ok with what he’d done that got to me. That was a lot
to absorb.
So, yeah, maybe he has been
understanding about all my problems, I mused quietly to myself as I glanced at
all the fairies and other mythical creatures dotting the ceiling. And then down
at my wrists. But did that mean I could just smile and nod? Did that mean I should?
But he has done a lot for you Morgana, I reminded myself, realizing once again everything
he had done for me, for us. He was understanding with all the crap with Matt.
He respected me. He loved me with everything he had. He stopped sleeping
around. He stopped drinking himself into oblivion. He stopped throwing himself
into trip after trip after trip.
I needed time to think. That was
all. Time to absorb. Sweet, innocent Taylor had been involved in a
canaille-type crowd. And not just involved; he’d been at the very center
of it. He was one of those guys you read about and couldn’t believe how many
different things they’d dirtied their hands in.
But I still loved him. Loved him
desperately.
I knew he was hurting as he sat
in my basement. I knew that my silence and my cold words had carved deep into
him.
I realized suddenly that it was one, peering over at the clock. I
had to go get Nicole from Bianca’s. Without saying a word to Taylor, I left.
“Where’s Taylor?” she asked as she
dropped into the car, waving to Bianca. Her clear eyes, green as my own, looked
over at me innocently. “You two can bear to be apart for five minutes?”
“Nicole, please.” I had such a
quiet voice, such a flat tone that she knew immediately that something was
wrong. Reaching over and silencing the radio, she stared at me. “What
happened?”
“Nic,
he found out… about, ya know.” I raised one hand to
expose my wrist momentarily before returning the hand to the wheel of the car.
She nodded, looking out the window with a pensive expression.
“Didn’t take it so well?”
“No, he took it fine.” I sighed
heavily, remembering the look in his eyes. He had been scared when he saw the
scars, scared for me. And he was scared because he loved me. “He took it really
well, actually. That was yesterday morning. But, he had some things that were
in his past he needed to tell me about. Which he did this morning. And… they
weren’t too great.”
“He had the nerve to tell you
about-“
“No!” I cut her off sharply,
happy she fell silent. “No,” I repeated in a calmer tone. “It was… different
than that.”
“Not going to tell me, are you?”
“No, it’s not for you to know.
It’s Taylor’s business and I don’t feel right telling you.” She gave me an
understanding look as I yanked the keys from the ignition.
“So, you’re… fighting?”
“I don’t know.” I smiled sadly,
looking into the house through the open window. Something moved in my room.
Taylor…
I went into the house, taking the
stairs slowly. I wasn’t sure what I was going to say to him, or what he was
doing in my room. “Taylor?” I choked out when I saw what he was doing. “Baby?”
“Isn’t this what you want?” he
asked quietly, shoving his sandals into the open bag on my bed. He had a small
stack of clothes beside the bag he was rolling into compact little balls and
shoving deep in the suitcase. Puffy, red eyes looked back at me when I didn’t
reply instantly.
“Taylor, what are you solving?”
“You don’t want me around you.
Whether it’s because I’ve scared you, disgusted you, disturbed you, whatever,
you don’t want me around. So I’m going to leave.”
“Your ticket isn’t until
tomorrow.”
“So I call Isaac and have him
register a room at the airport hotel.”
“How are you getting to the
airport?”
“Well, I figured you’d be glad
enough to be rid of me.” His voice was hurt and bitter. Long, tanned fingers
twirled the cross around his neck absently as he watched me. Stood still and
let me observe him. “You left here in such a hurry.”
“Taylor, I went to go get Nicole
from Bianca’s,” I said gently, letting my car keys drop down to the floor. The
tears pricked softly at my eyes as I looked over at him again. “If you leave
now, who’s going to love me?”
“Ana…” His arms were around me in
the next moment, holding me tightly in an embrace of relief. He kissed my cheek
softly, his voice choked with emotion. “I just thought you wanted me gone… I
don’t want to hurt you or scare you or upset you or...”
“Taylor, I still love you even if
you scare me,” I reminded him quietly, his embrace comfortingly familiar. I
didn’t want him to release me as I lay my cheek against his shoulder, didn’t
want him to let me go.
“Did I scare you?”
“No,” I answered thoughtfully
after a moment. I held him closer to me, my arms around his waist and his
pressed to my back. “You didn’t scare me. It was just… a lot to take in.”
“So you don’t want me to leave?”
he asked in a tiny voice, sounding like the little boy that he was. He was
innocent to the everyday passer-by, but only God knew what he had witnessed in
the confines of his own personal life.
“No, Taylor! I don’t want you to
leave.” I gripped his arms tightly as I pulled back to look at him, to search
his relived azure eyes. “I want you to stay here and love me like only you
can.”
“Shit, Ana, I thought I’d fucked
up real bad,” he whispered softly in my ear as he wrenched me back to him in a
desperately passionate embrace. His mouth wandered over my neck, down my jaw,
back to my mouth. My bottom lip was held captive by his lips for a moment until
his kiss enveloped my entire mouth. “I love you,” he murmured quietly, that
soft, husky voice that only I heard flowing free.
“I love you too.” The tears that
had pricked at my eyes receded, but not before a solitaire one trekked down my
cheek, drizzling over my delicate cheekbones. It only fell until Taylor’s lips
caught it.
* * *
His hands were tepid and toasty
as they wandered the expanse of my back, the cool night breeze no match for his
warm breath, the heat that emanated from his body. Crickets chirped softly in
the darkness that was hidden from my eyes and diamonds sparkled on their ebony
velvet. I could almost imagine my namesake swirling through the blackness
above, smiling down on us before moving on to invade some other poor sap’s
dream.
I cuddled closer to Taylor as the
soft breeze rustled through the trees, the leaves swishing together softly. The
old blanket I had found in my downstairs closet saved us from the grime and
dirt that the grass hid, and warm sweatshirts shielded our skin. Taylor’s hand
were beneath my sweatshirt, beneath his T-shirt I had stolen while I’d been in
Tulsa. (Actually, he had let me take it, I think. But that wasn’t the point.) I
smiled in the darkness, imagining he could smell the deep rose scent of my hair
as I leaned heavily against him, my eyes on the stars. The constellations were
out, shining brightly from the heavens on me and Taylor.
“Ya
know,” he said softly, his fingers dancing across my smooth skin, “I used to
watch the stars at my grandparents’ when I was younger. They had this old house
way out in the country and the sky was so clear there. It was this real
typical, cliché old place with a wrap-around porch, complete with rocking
chair. The rocking chair that’s in Zoë’s room now, actually. And I’d sit on my
grandmother’s lap because I was always her favorite, and Isaac and Zac would
sit with my grandfather on this swinging chair. And they’d show us the
constellations, with Zac fidgeting the whole while, itching to go run through
their huge yard.” His voice was wistful, almost bittersweet as he spoke, his
fingers stroking my skin gently. He rolled over so he lay on his side, propped
up on one side with his elbow. His other hand trailed beneath my clothes to
caress my stomach softly, gently. He always had the most gentle touch.
“You were the favorite?” I
giggled softly, looking up at his with his soft gaze staring back. “But wasn’t
Isaac there first?”
“Yeah, but see, he was my
grandfather’s favorite. Still is. My grandmother latched on to me the way my
grandfather had latched on to Isaac. She didn’t care that I was a little boy
that loved to run around with a baseball cap and plastic sword. She made me sit
in the kitchen with her and ‘test’ her cookies to ensure that they were good
enough.”
His voice was sad as he looked up
at the stars again, snuggling closer to me, into my warm arms. “I wonder
sometimes if she became another one of those stars. That’s what she used to
tell me. That when she died, all I would have to do was look up at the stars
and I could see her there. She said for every good person that died, a new star
was born. She used to tell me that if I was good, one day I’d have my own star.
And she’d make sure that I got one close to her.”
I stroked his hair softly,
dropping a light kiss on his forehead and trying to comfort him. The memories
he shared were deeply personal. I imagined that this was his grandmother the
song had been written for. This was the grandmother that was behind ‘With You
in Your Dreams’ and the reason that every time I had ever seen Taylor sing that
song he looked as if he may cry.
“We sang at her funeral,” he said
quietly, almost as if reading my thoughts. “The three of us. I kept choking on
the words. We didn’t finish the song because I broke down in front of everyone.
We were singing a cappella, and I just collapsed on the stairs; cried. I
remember there being this hushed silence while I cried; everyone stared at the
boy who sobbed so uncontrollably. It was before ‘Middle of Nowhere’ and all
that, but after we’d made ‘Boomerang’. People around town had come to support
the family and they all just stared at me until Isaac picked me up and carried
me back to our mother.”
I didn’t know if he was going to
cry or not as he grew silent, cuddling closer to me. His mouth nuzzled my neck
softly, and he let me take him into my arms, let me hold him. My skin
dampened as his silent tears sprinkled from his eyes, breath ragged as he
wrapped his arms around me.
“Shh,”
I whispered softly, grazing his back with the tips of my fingers lightly. “It’s
alright, baby. Shh…” He only lay silently against me,
the flickering of his soft eyelashes against my neck tickling the sensitive
flesh. I watched the stars as I stroked his back softly, his arm that was flung
across my stomach rising and falling with each breath I took.
The Milky Way sparkled above us
in the pristine night sky, brilliant. I smiled sadly at Taylor’s memories and
suddenly felt like I had stepped straight out of one of the ‘teen-bullshit’
movies, as Taylor called them. I almost could imagine the camera high above
Taylor and I, spinning the image until it faded away to the stars that were
high above us.
I smiled at that, at the thought
that I, Morgana Summer, who lived my life against the
conformity that had befallen so much of teenage America, might as well have
been living out a movie script.
But I guess that’s how life is, I
reflected as I stroked Taylor’s soft locks, spinning his hair through my
fingers until the short pieces fell out of my grasp. Everybody’s life seems at
times to have been hand delivered from a Hollywood writer. Hell, Taylor was a
piece of Hollywood himself. No matter how much he just was ‘baby’ or ‘Tay’ to
me, he was still one of ‘Hanson’.
Taylor’s tears had ceased as he
looked up at me, sniffling lightly and rubbing at his eyes. He smiled with a
hint of melancholy, pushing away the hair that had fallen into my face and
tucking it behind my ears. A soft kiss dropped from his lips to my forehead as
his fingers trailed along my cheek.
“What did I ever do to deserve
you?” I asked quietly as Taylor knelt beside me, reaching for his soft face,
letting my fingers linger on his skin.
“It must have been the same thing
I did to deserve you,” he replied softly, taking my fingers and bringing them
to his mouth as I felt a soft, delicate smile drape over my lips. The moonlight
caught his hair as he knelt over me, luminescent and glowing like an angel’s
halo. His sweatshirt pitched forward slightly as he leaned down, his mouth
hovering just above mine for only a moment before I was wrapped into his
embrace once again.
He’s leaving me tomorrow, I
thought dimly as his mouth trailed from my lips to my jaw, to the nape of my
neck. It didn’t take much for me to imagine how he had seduced the girls he
had. But I had him all to myself now and didn’t have to share with anyone.
I giggled lightly as he stood
suddenly and swept me up into his arms, carrying me like a small child. My arms
curled up around his neck as he carefully grabbed the blanket and walked into
the house. “Tay, put me down,” I hissed quietly, laughing as I did, as we entered
the house. “Taylor!”
He looked back at me with his
Cheshire grin and kept walking, kicking open the front door easily enough. The
blanket that was filled with grass and leaves was left by the front door as he
ascended the stairs easily and quickly.
By the clock, it was nearing
eleven. Taylor’s flight left at ten then next morning, which meant we had to
leave my house by nine. Which meant we were up at eight-thirty. But what did I
care at that point?
He set me down on my bed gently,
removing his sweatshirt now that we were back in the house. Nicole had already
gone to bed; she didn’t hear my laughter as Taylor pulled the sweatshirt off my
body and began tickling me.
“I believe this is my shirt,” he
said mischievously, tracing the letters of the well-worn shirt that did in-fact
belong to him.
“Perhaps.” I grinned slyly at
him, gathering his shirt into my hands and pulling him closer to me. I kissed
him slowly, in that lingering way I loved before releasing him and looking back
into his content eyes. “What’re you going to do?”
“I think I’m going to have to
confiscate it,” he told me matter-of-factly, a broad smirk stretching over his
face as he tugged lightly on the edge. A slice of my creamy skin showed, pale
compared to his bronzed hands that wandered so freely. More peaches-and-cream
was exposed, slowly, until the shirt had been relinquished to the floor.
“Baby, your precious shirt’s on
the floor,” I told him playfully, tugging lightly at the sleeves of his own
present clothing.
“Hmm, maybe it needs company.” He
met my devilish grin with one of his own as the thin fabric tore free of his
body and fluttered down. Strong arms encircled me and I was in heaven.
But my angel was leaving me…
“I’ll miss you,” I whispered
quietly, quickly in his ear as we stood in the corner of the terminal. He
should have already boarded the plane with the first class passengers, but he
was waiting.
“I’ll miss you too, Morgana. God I love you,” he murmured back, that soft husky
voice I loved making my knees melt.
I couldn’t help but giggle though
at what he had said. “Oh, sure you love God, but not me.”
He only shook his head and stared
back at me, tucking a stray strand of blondness behind one of my ears. “I love
you.”
“I love you too baby.” I snuggled
into his arms for one last hug and then leaned back for that last kiss. And
when it was over and he walked away, blowing a kiss to me as the attendant took
his ticket, I held the tears back.
But only until I
got to the car and couldn’t contain the flood any longer.
i
know it’s only been three hours since you left me, since you were forced back
to that life that i am no part of. i know that there’s nothing i can or could
ever do to stop you. But I can’t help but miss you. I miss your soft touch. I miss
sleeping with you there, with your heart beating in my ears and lulling me off
to sleep. I miss your soft voice, so loving and caring.
I
can sit here and see your eyes, feel my breath get short as I recall how I’d
just drown in that Mediterranean sea that you look out from. The way that the
waters become stormy when you’re puzzled over something and the way that a
perfect summer day appears when you’re happy.
I
want nothing more than to be in your arms again. i just want you to hold me and
never let go. For your soft lips, lips that taste so sweet, to whisper against
my skin. i want to see that soft, content grin on your face that melts your
eyes so beautifully when i pause my own kisses to look at you, the beautiful
one that you are. I want to see the way your limbs are relaxed, melted like
butter, because you feel safe, because you know that absolutely nothing bad can
happen to you. I’m glad to have photos of us together that we took on our own.
The pictures of you from the press are almost cold, with your chilly smile,
your chasing glare. Not like my pictures of you, where you dissolve my soul
every time i look at you.
I
know that this is going to be hard for us. I know that we’ve been dealing with
nothing more than two weeks absences and that we’re now looking at a much
longer time apart, when i won’t even know the phone number of where i can get a
hold of you. I know that I call and page you whenever, but I… … it’s hard for
me to explain on this page. Especially when my eyes water with tears of longing
for you by my side, for you to hold me. I think I’ll leave you now, as this
letter becomes harder and harder for me to write, because my eyes blur with the
tears i refuse to cry. I won’t cry because i miss you, because if I start I
won’t be able to stop. I love you and miss you more than anything I’ve ever
felt before.
Yours,
~ Morgana ~
Hey Ana,
August 13
Well, I got your letter the day after
I got home. Sending those things fast enough? Not that I mind at all. You have
such a beautiful way with words that I don’t think I’ll ever have.
I reread what you wrote to me at
least a hundred times sitting down in the studio. You’re an inspiration to me, Morgana.
I know we talk all the time on the
phone, (my mother reminds me of the bill constantly, but don’t worry, I don’t
care) but I still miss you so much. I don’t have your way with words, but I
miss you gentle smile, the soft way sunlight glints off your blond hair that I
loved to run my fingers through. Your hair just smelt so sumptuous and it’s
just so feather-soft. I can still smell traces of you on my clothes. That shirt
you stole from me smells like your room, like you, that hint of incense mixed
with the sea.
I miss holding you, Ana. I miss how
soft your body is, the way you seem to just mold against me. I miss the way you
call me ‘baby’ with that cute little accent of yours. It’s just not the same to
hear you on the phone.
I know how much this hurts you, Ana.
God, it hurts me too. You know I’ve never given a shit enough about anybody to
miss them, but I also (hope) you know that I miss you more than anything.
Anything in the world. But we’ve both got to be strong through this time that
we’re apart. It’ll make being together that much more wonderful. It does hurt
like a bitch though, hurts that I know you’re fighting tears, that you’ll
probably run your fingers over this ink, searching for some trace of me in
these pen marks. I think you know as well as I do that I’ve done the same with
your letter. I love you, Ana. I love you like I’ve never loved anything before.
And I do mean anything. You’re a beautiful person on the inside and out. I love
the way you think, the way that you feel so strongly about things. I know that
there’s more of that beautiful mind you’ve got in those stories of yours. I’d
love to see them someday. But I’ll just have to leave it at that. Wait, I’m
sorry, I have to add one more thing to that. I’d like to see the fanfic I know you’ve written. (Your sister loves
me). Don’t worry, she didn’t tell me anything about the actual stories, (does
she even know?) so I don’t know. Got anything juicy about me? Hehe… =) Sorry, I’ve got to be a pain in the ass once in a
while.
But seriously… You mean the world to me. I don’t want to
lose you to fame or distance. I refuse to. Well, I think I’ve rambled here
enough. I miss you with all my heart and wish that we were together again. I
love you, Morgana.
Taylor
Heyhey, August
17
Ok,
Ok, so i do some strange things. i can’t help it! Thank-you for the un-deserved
compliments about my writing. And you do too have a way with words. Hello!
You’re in an internationally famous band and you write all your own songs. (And
don’t you dare tell me that Isaac and Zac are the ones responsible for that
because i know you write 75% of all the lyrics).
Oh
yeah. I saw a re-run of Letterman you were on last night. Or maybe it was
Conan… Sorry, I’m not too sure which one it was. You were singing ‘weird’, so
whatever show you were on singing that. (sorry, I’m slow sometimes, you know
that). Well, it was kind of strange to watch that again because I remember
taping it when it was first on so I could watch it over and over. I remember so
clearly how I thought that you were so innocent, me and my friends joking about
how you were a good little Christian boy. One who strove not to think about the
bra-less, white tank-topped girls in the crowd. I guess we were wrong! (But,
hey, I like you the way you are! In all honestly, i don’t want Mr. Goody-Two-Shoes).
So I sat there last night, now that I know you, now that I’ve spent nights with
your arms curled around me, it seems so strange to see you on that show. I can
see the stiffness in your body as you’re sitting in those chairs, I can hear
the impatience in your voice. I can see the annoyance in your eyes when you
look at Zac. But the thing that really gets me is the way you’re face is when
you’re singing. It’s like you’re baring that sweet and vulnerable, loving
Taylor that I miss with all my heart. When you’re singing, you’re just Tay to
millions of girls. But when you sit down, that brilliant shimmer starts to fade
out. You look almost cold. You smile so sarcastically and seem so damned
cynical. But all those girls don’t see that. They don’t hear the fakeness of
your laughter, don’t hear the irritated tone in your voice, they don’t see your
intense hatred of being humored by the late-night talk show host.
I
guess I was just thinking about that. I used to wish that I had you all to
myself so that you would shower me with love, affection, that wonderful smile
of yours. And although you have and I love you so much it hurts, I got all the
crap that came with you. I got the
womanizing, somewhat arrogant (you are!) possessive boyfriend. But i
don’t mind any of it. You’re passed womanizing, your arrogance is to be
expected, (You know you’re hot and have amazing talent) and as far as
you being possessive, I’ll just slap you if you get too bad… And no, not in the
way you’d like to be slapped. (i know you, remember?)
I
guess my point is that I’m just kinda wondering how this is going to go. God
knows I’m going to be damned sure i see you on those shows. But I can’t help
but wonder if you’ll still seem so very cold. It’s just more and more of this
intense realization that you are a complete and total different person when
you’re not on camera. But i love that person. I love you for you, not for the
angelic boy that wears tight shirts and seems to have an endless talent for
music. (Ok, well, I love all that too, but I think you get my point). I’m not
in love with Taylor Hanson, “pop-star”, I’m in love with Tay, the one i fondly
call ‘baby’.
Love
and lots of it,
~ Morgana ~
Hey Morgana, August
20
That was Conan you saw the other night.
I think some of my friends actually caught it back here in Tulsa. They felt the
need to torment me some more about meaningless crap. I guess you’re right
though. I do put on an act on those shows and Zac’s antics do piss me off
really quickly. I can’t help it!
Hmm… so you never said anything about
the fanfic topic in your last letter. Avoiding the
subject, eh? Well, I’m not going to avoid it! I’m gonna
nag you about it until I feel satisfied with your answer. And I will bug you on
the phone too. For now I’ll just let you be delusional and think that I’ll just
let this go eventually. (Yeah, right!) I only ask because I’m curious. I know
you’re writing is personal and shows a lot of who you are. But I want to see it
for that reason. I love you I just want to understand you. But I don’t want to really
piss you off so I’ll let it go for now.
Zac’s causing trouble around the
house. He keeps pissing everybody off for no reason. He doesn’t want to
practice with me and Ike but he does want to practice at three in the morning.
It’s absurd. I don’t know what his issue is, but I wish he’d snap out of it.
Although, this has been ongoing for write some time. Oh well…. not much anybody
can do…
All my friends keep asking questions
about you. They want you to come back. Rebecca asks about you a lot too. I
think her and Ike are having problems. I’m not sure. Maybe, if it’s alright
with you, I’ll give her your number. She seems really upset whenever I see her.
And there’s this awkward tension between her and Isaac. I mean, she’s still
here a lot, but they’re fighting all the time. When my parents aren’t home,
it’s screaming matches. When they are, it’s those low, angry tones. I’m not
sure if either of them have hit the other. Ike’s not like that, but Rebecca’s
got some bruises. And Ike’s face has a small bruise. He said he hit his cheek
on his bedpost getting up. It just doesn’t sit right with me.
I’m probably just over analyzing, but
I’m telling you, Ike and Becca have never been like
this before in their extensive relationship. They’ve been together for a long
time.
But I guess that’s enough about that.
I don’t want to upset you with the crap here at home.
Hmm… I’ve been playing paintball a
lot the last few days. Enjoying time with the guys, ya
know? I miss that when I’m not home. Not as much as I miss you, but I do miss
my ‘guy time’. Just time to sit back and talk shit and be open about things.
And of course, to beat the living shit outta each
other. Like I said, we’ve been playing a lot of paintball. I’m lucky because I
can run fast and I’m thin and can maneuver a lot easier than some of my
friends. Don’t worry about me, though. I’m not going to get hurt. I’m very
careful.
Other than the resistance of Zac to
play with us, the band’s doing fine. Me and Ike have gotten some good stuff
arranged for whenever Zac finally decides to sit down and play more than ten
minutes of music.. For times like this, I’m forever grateful we spent the money
and had the studio built here at home.
We’re going to LA in October to
record the CD. But not until after Halloween, so I guess that’s more November.
We’re going to throw a part down here, a big ass Halloween/Zac’s birthday/going
away party because the three of us are going to be in LA for a good two and a
half months. The demos are being recorded starting next week, so I’ll send you
copies of those once they’re recorded. You’ve actually inspired a lot of the
lyrics I’ve been writing. But we’ve got two months to do these, so maybe I’ll
even write a song for you. Hehe… I love you, Morgana. But Mom’s calling me for dinner and I don’t want
to upset her. I want you to be here for that party I was talking about. That’d
be really nice. Especially once I get all the details worked out… You
said you know me. Use your imagination.
All my love,
Taylor
Heyhey, August
24
Halloween party,
eh? So lemme guess… A big house rented in the middle of nowhere that’s got
bedrooms upstairs and is a ‘You’re locking into this house until dawn’. I do
know you. And if you haven’t thought of that stuff, well, i guess you’ve got
the idea in your mind now. I’m not sure how long I’ll be able to be there for.
Halloween’s on a Sunday this year, so I’m guessing i could probably stay until
Monday and get an early morning flight so i can go to school for noon. Maybe
leave school for noon Thursday and be there by 6:30, 7. Umm… I just don’t know
how I’m going to get the money for the ticket. I really don’t want you to pay
again, because you paid last time. Maybe we would split the cost or something.
I hate asking about money and stuff, but I just can’t afford to go to Tulsa all
the time. I would love to. But I can’t afford that kind of TRAVELING expense. i
just can’t.
But, hopefully
we’ll figure this out. You know that I would love to be there for
Halloween with you for this party. But it kinda sucks that I won’t see you
until October, almost November. it’s late August now so that’s almost three
months.
Well,
on another topic… Fanfic. Yes, I did write it. Niki didn’t lie to you. Yeah, I
wrote it. She hasn’t read any of it; only Skye has. i don’t know if I’ll ever
let you read it. In all honesty, when we first started dating, I was just
wrapping up one of the stories. I’ve got maybe three or four of them. I did
finish the last one when i got home. They’re good, yeah. I know they’re
good. But I’m really not sure if i want you to read them just because of the
content. They are fiction, not my opinion of you or anything. But if you’re
reading about yourself, it must seem strange. So we’ll see… But if you do read
them… Oh, nevermind.
The
point is that yes, I did write some fanfic, but I’m not sure whether or not
I’ll let you read it. Not because it’s fanfic and I’m ashamed, but because you
might be offended by the way I portray you.
So
what is this with the problems in T-Town? Zac’s being a pain in the ass? Maybe
there’s just a lot of stress in his mind. Do you take the time to talk to him,
one on one? I mean, it’s obvious that you and Ike are pretty tight-knit, and
sometimes Zac’s just the tag-along. He probably feels left out a lot. I mean,
both you and Isaac have girlfriends who love you more than anything else
in the world. Zac doesn’t. And even though he doesn’t have anybody, he’s not
even up to your old games. He most likely feels rejected from the two of you
and your world. He’s lashing back however he can, and he knows that the band is
something important to you and Ike. He just wants to say, “Look, you do
need me.” It’s probably just something he’ll snap out of when you get back into
the studio and start working again. You probably should just not worry about
it.
But
what is this with Ike and Becca? You’ve never mentioned this on the phone! Of
course, Rebecca can call me! Anytime!! Me and her talked a lot when I was in
Tulsa. So there’s issues with them? Things seemed a little… off… I wonder
what’s up. Ike hasn’t said anything to you? I mean, you two are so close. Hmm…
maybe Becca will tell me. Ya know, the whole girl to girl thing. Maybe I’ll
have some luck. I want them to be happy together. I mean, your brothers a good
guy and Rebecca… I don’t know her all that well but I don’t want anybody in
pain like that. Well, I have to go. Skye’s taking me shopping, cause we’re
doing our annual pre-school shopping spree.
Love
always and forever,
Morgana
PS. Please, just don’t mention the fanfic thing on the phone!
Hey Morgana, August
29
I know you don’t want me mentioning
the fanfic thing on the phone. I leave it alone. And
I will. Never again. If you to show it to me, that’s fine. But if you don’t
that’s fine. Alright?
You probably heard from Becca by now. She said that she had actually been thinking
of asking me get your number. I hope you can help because Ike won’t talk to me
about this. I ask him and he either tells me that it’s none of my damned
business or he just says that they’re having some problems. I wish I could help
him. He’s my brother, ya know? And Becca’s like a sister to me! I don’t want to see her hurt
either. It’s just really hard because I don’t know what to do to help. I hope
that you’ll be able to help her. Like you said, the whole girl to girl thing.
Well, as much as I’d like to sit here and pour my thoughts into this page, I
have a few other things to tell you.
DON’T WORRY ABOUT
THE MONEY!! Please! I don’t mind paying for you to come here. I know you
can’t afford to come here all the time. I want you here though and I have more
than enough money. I can afford a plane ticket! Please, don’t feel bad about
the money issues. Please just listen to me. I will pay for it. You don’t
have the choice anymore. =) I just need your OK that you can come before I buy
the tickets.
But, here’s some good news for you. I
don’t know if you know about Z100’s Labor Day show… well, they’re having this
show. We’re going to be playing a few songs, just this small set, but we’re in
New York for the weekend. Friday, Saturday, Sunday, and then leaving on Monday.
So… you don’t have school on Monday, because it’s Labor Day and all. I know
you’ve been kinda depressed with not knowing when I’m
going to see you again. So once again, it’s just another week, huh? You’re also
probably ready to shoot me because I never mentioned this on the phone. Well,
I’m looking forward to seeing you, cause I miss you so, so much. You’ll have to
come to the show with me on Saturday. I’m definitely not letting you out of my
sight…
And as far as this Halloween party, I
took your little ideas. I was already thinking that, so yes, you do know me all
too well. I talked to Zac, (he’s very agreeable as to the party, so he talked
freely) and Ike, (not so agreeable because of him and Becca)
but they both were like, ‘Oh, hellz yeah’.
We’re still got to work everything
out with our parents. Especially the overnight thing. We want to do a party
that’s, like you said, a “locked-in” thing. It will be, yes, at this really
old house out passed the city limits. The guy who owns the place, but doesn’t
live there, is all like, “Anything for you Hanson boys”. He’s kinda’ve got this whole hometown pride thing going on. But
I guess it’s all good because the place kicks. It’s some old mansion from a
millionaire that lived out here in the 1800’s from Europe. It’s kinda got this Gothic architecture to it that I know you
love. We’re going to go all out and even though I know it’s gonna
cost a lot of money, I don’t care. We’re going to go all out because we haven’t
thrown a decent party is so long. And we’re going to be gone practically
forever. And oh yeah, it’s going to be a costume party so start thinking about
that. I don’t know what I’m going to be. Maybe we could do something together.
Maybe… we’d have to come up with something really good. And of course, we get
to spend the night together.
I can’t wait to see you Morgana. I miss you with every fiber of my being and every
nerve tingles as I think of you being with me again. I love you.
Zac is getting better about playing.
I think he just needed a break or maybe you’re right and it was a cry for
attention and respect. But he also did go out last night with this girl he’s kinda liked for a while and it seems like that went well.
But Ike and Becca
had a HUGE blowout last night. I know she slapped him this time because they
were fighting upstairs and she ran out of his room downstairs. Me and Zac were
watching TV and you know how the house is set up. They were over by the front door,
and he was trying to keep her from leaving, both of them all crying and shit.
Ike just grabbed her arm and he was yelling at her, and she just shook him off
and smacked him pretty hard. He’s got a really dark bruise that goes from his
nose to his temple today. But he still refuses to talk to me. Oh yeah, and the
reason I don’t mention all of this on the phone is that there’s always people
around and I don’t want to set Ike off. Alright, well I would love to sit here
and write to you, but we have to do a phone conference with our managers etc.
Fun fun fun…
All my love,
Taylor
PS. Only 6 days
until I’m in New York at the writing of this letter.
“I want you to remember,
A love so full it could send us all ways,
I want you to surrender,
All my feelings rose today,
And I want you to remain,
The power of children can amaze,
I’ll try not to complain...”
Rolling
out of bed, I slapped at my alarm as WAAF blasted music at a cheery hour of six
AM. “Fuck,” I muttered under my breath as I looked around my room, a room that
was plastered in posters of various rock bands. Except for one poster. Across
the room from my bed shone my prized possession, a recent poster of Taylor,
Isaac and Zac. Taylor grinned back at me easily, his eyes lit up with a fire
that I knew existed only for me and his music.
I missed him. I really did. I hadn’t seen him for over a month,
and each day was pure torture. I couldn’t take this much longer, but that was
ok. He was coming to Connecticut, well actually New York, but he was picking me
up from school that afternoon, me the unfortunate one to start school BEFORE
Labor Day. I hadn’t really wanted him to, but he had insisted. So he was going
to pick me up, which meant I had to get up early so I could get a ride to
school with Skye.
Stumbling
through the darkness of my room, the shadows cast by the early morning light
making navigation of make-up, clothes, batteries, CD’s and hairbrushes nearly
impossible, I reached out for the clothes that lay on the back of my desk
chair. A pair of loose Kikgirl jeans, a tight black
baby doll T-shirt.
A sigh flew
through my lips as I dropped a necklace over my throat and clasped the
ball-chain clasp behind my neck, admiring the way the faux red crystal star
caught the light. I had felt so bare when I had first given away my cross to
Taylor, but the pentacle that he had given my now replaced that naked feel. Not
to mention, the fact that Taylor wore the cross made it all worth it.
I made my way
into the bathroom next, shoving the toothbrush under the stream of water and
then into my mouth. After I finished brushing my teeth, I pulled out my
make-up. Dark black eye-liner rimming my eyes, smoky eye shadow for those
sultry eyes, faint hint of lip-gloss, done.
Sighing as I
flipped off the bathroom light, I found my chunky heeled Doc Martins and
shoving my feet into them. Grabbed my book bag, well, actually, it was a Nine
West purse that I used as a book bag, and a cup of coffee before throwing on my
long leather jacket and getting into Skye’s car.
“Hey,” she
greeted me, pulling out of my driveway and turning towards our school, the sun
glaring back into our eyes.
“Hey,” I
returned, grabbing the seatbelt and jabbing it into its lock and leaning back
into the seat, pulling out my Oakley’s and dropping them onto my eyes.
“Taylor’s coming
to see you, isn’t he?” Skye asked quietly, turning down the radio so that Korn wasn’t drowning out her words.
“Yeah,” I
admitted, blushing slightly. “Why?”
Skye laughed,
shooting a glance at me as she grinned, her lips pulled back to reveal teeth
that had been straightened years ago with braces. “Because it explains the
tight shirt.”
“Skye…” I
groaned, making a face in her general direction. “Leave me alone!”
“You know,
Taylor’s really going to appreciate the shirt. Especially if you go outside
without your jacket. It’s kinda a chilly day.” She
grinned at me again, a devilish quality to her eyes as they shot from the road
and then back to me. I scrunched up my noise, debating hitting her.
“Skye, that’s
disgusting.”
“Yeah, well,
Taylor wouldn’t think so. And you know it. And
I know you were considering doing it anyway,” she said matter-of-factly,
grinning again.
“So?”
She only shook
her head, making a face at me and turning the radio back up so Jon Davis could
declare that he was a fagot once again.
We arrived at
school a few minutes later, that prison that is referred to as an institution
of education. I slammed the car door shut and said good-bye to Skye, hurrying
into my English class just as the bell rang. “Hey,” I greeted my friends as I
looked up at the board, rolling my eyes. More busy work. Joy.
“Hey, Ana,
what’s with the energy today?” asked Jordan, his normally-short hair currently
dyed a deep green.
“My boyfriend’s
coming up from New York,” I told him, grinning broadly as I tapped my pencil
against the desk. “You know I haven’t seen Taylor since the end of July.”
“Yeah.” He made
a face as he looked at me. “I still say that things are never going to work
with him. He’s going to cheat on you.”
“No he’s not.
I’ll be fine.”
“You thought
you’d be fine after the episode with Matt,” he said softly, pausing to look
back at me gently. We were really good friends and he had been there for me
when I had gone through my issues with Matt, and I guess he was just worried
about me. “Look, Ana,” he paused, sighing before continuing, “I just don’t wanna see you get hurt again.”
“I know,” I
replied quietly after a moment, the chatter of the room an easy cloak to our
conversation, one that I was grateful for. “But you don’t know him. He treats
me really well,” I assured Jordan, biting back tears as I thought of how
desperately I missed Taylor, how desperately I missed everything about him.
“I know I don’t
know him. That’s why I don’t like it,” Jordan said after a moment, watching me
carefully with his piercing eyes. Those damned eyes were what had always drawn
me to him. Just like Taylor’s eyes had always drawn me to him.
“Jordan, he’s a
sweat heart. He loves me. I love him.”
“So when do I
get to meet him?”
“This afternoon
if you want. Like I said, he’s coming to pick me up from school. But we’re
going back to New York after,” I told him, watching Katie, sitting beside me,
scrawling answer after answer on her paper. I carefully looked over her
shoulder, catching the next ten answers before filling them into the empty
spaces on my paper.
“Promise to wait
so I can talk to him?”
“Sure.” I smiled
as I looked back over at Jordan, heart aching as I thought of the hours I still
had to wait. “I promise to wait so you can meet him.” That satisfied him enough
so that he would leave me alone. I quickly answered the rest of the questions
in the exercise, all equally easy and boring, and shoved my books back into my
bag. The class was ending.
“Hey, Ana,
remember, you promised,” Jordan called over his shoulder as he left, his green
hair ruffled as his girlfriend met him outside the door and playfully ran her
fingers through his hair. He smiled, leaning down to kiss her quickly, but then
calling once more over his shoulder as he walked down the hall with his arm
around her waist, “I mean it Ana!”
I grinned to
myself as Katie and I walked across the hall to our French class, dropping into
our accustomed seats at the far right of the room, me sitting behind her.
French was a long class.
“Piece of shit,” I muttered to myself, kicking
at the fading blue paint before turning and walking down the hall to find Skye.
French had ended, finally, and now it was time to battle the hallways.
“Hey,” she
greeted me, making a face as one of the ‘popular’ girls ran past us, giggling
absurdly about something.
“Hey,” I
returned, the giddy, stupid grin returning to my face as I realized I was two
hours closer to seeing Taylor again. “Argh, I hate
French so much.”
“Hey, don’t
bitch. You don’t have Mr. Foran. He’s insane,” she
returned, raising her eyebrows as her tone got defensive. “You’ve got the easy
teacher.”
“I know.” I
grinned in reply as we continued to press through the throngs of people that
crowded the halls of our oh-so-fucked high school. "Can you people learn to
walk!” I muttered under my breath, giving Skye a look that we exchanged so
often lately.
“Ana, they’re
never going to learn. We’ve been saying that for three years now. This is
number four.” Skye made a face as we finally broke free of the massive convergence
of people near the water fountain. Don’t ask why they all converge there. It’s
only a water fountain as far as I know. A simple, old, falling apart water
fountain where you had better be sure to run the water for at least twenty
seconds before drinking it or you just might die.
“I know. But
they’re so fucking annoying. I mean, it’s not that complicated. One foot
in front of the other. Not that hard,” I told her, my exasperated voice echoing
off the thick concrete walls. She looked back at me and immediately burst out
laughing, bag flying over her shoulder and nearly hitting a kid she was walking
past.
Freshmen…
“You’re funny,”
she said laughing as she continued down the hall on her own, me going down one
of the side halls. “Bye!”
“Bye!” I shouted
back, throwing open the door to my astronomy class. I collapsed down into my
seat, ready for another hour of purgatory.
Many, many hours
later, the guards took a nap and the rusted gates squeaked open for a brief few
days.
I rushed from my
last period class to my locker, grabbing my jacket and dumping in the books
that even if I needed I would have no part of. I swung the coat over and onto
my shoulders and hurried from the school, a grin spread across my face as I
combed through my hair with my fingers, spreading some lip-gloss quickly over
my lips and spitting out my gum as I passed a garbage can.
Taylor was easy
enough to spot. He was the only one with a brand new BMW in the parking lot of
our school, and the only guy that I knew of with long blond hair. There would
be no crappy car for Taylor, even if it was just a rental car for a few days.
Not that I wouldn’t recognize him anywhere. I ran over to him, dropping my bag
onto the ground beside the car and wrapping my arms tightly around him. “Tay, I
missed you so much,” I whispered softly in his ear as he folded his arms
tightly around me for a moment.
“I missed you
too,” he whispered back, moving back only slightly so he could press his mouth
to mine, my eyes slipping shut as I enjoyed the familiar feel of his mouth
against mine, as I enjoyed the feeling of his tongue in my mouth.
I smiled as he pulled back, wiping at my mouth
as I reached up to brush away a few of the strands that had fallen into his
eyes from his messy hair-style. “I love you.”
“I love you
too,” he returned, taking my bag and throwing it into the backseat of the car,
a grin spreading across his lips as he straightened, kissing me once more. “You
ready?”
“Yeah, but I
promised one of my friends that he could meet you,” I told him, spotting Jordan
exiting the front doors of our high school. I waved at him, calling him over. I
turned back to Taylor as he started in our direction.
“I promised. He
insisted,” I told him softly, lacing my fingers with his as I leaned against
him. “He was there for me through the whole episode with Matt. He’s just
worried about me,” I added in a lower voice, speaking close to Taylor’s ear. He
nodded and kissed my forehead lightly as Jordan approached, his gray back pack
sliding off as he attempted to hurry, knowing I had missed Taylor more than
anything.
“Hey, Ana,” he
greeted me, squinting in the light of the sun reflecting off the car. “And you
must be Taylor,” he added, looking at the blond who stood beside me, one arm
now draped over my waist.
“Yep, that’s me,”
Taylor replied, smiling easily at Jordan as I moved a little closer, happy to
finally have Taylor back. The sun caught my cross hanging around his neck. I
smiled at that, though the glare was nearly blinding.
“I’m Jordan. Just
a friend of Morgana’s,” he said softly, shoving his
hands into his pockets and looking at Taylor, who was slightly taller than he
was, slightly more attractive.
“Jordan, we’ve
really got to go. I don’t want to sit in New York rush hour,” I told him,
letting go of Taylor and walking around to the other side of the car.
“Alright. I’ll
see you Tuesday, Ana. Nice meeting you, Taylor,” Jordan called, hurrying away
and back into the school to find his own girlfriend.
I smiled,
slamming the car door and shrugging off my jacket and depositing it into the
backseat. “I missed you so much,” I said softly, leaning over to kiss his cheek
again gently.
“I know. I
missed you too,” he told me, his voice soft and some-what husky as he turned to
look at me, raising one hand to my cheek and touching my skin lightly. “Who was
that guy?”
“Jordan. He’s
just a friend of mine. Don’t get upset,” I said quietly, biting my lip as I
detected the hint of jealousy in his voice, the hint of suspicion.
“Just a friend?
How come he wanted to meet me so badly then? None of your other friends were
that insistent on meeting me.”
“Taylor,” I
began, squeezing my eyes shut and tightening my hands into fists as I let loose
a rush of air from my mouth, “he’s a really good friend of mine. One of the
best. He was there for me through everything with Matt. He saw what happened to
me because of him. He’s been there for me through a lot, Taylor. He doesn’t
know you and he doesn’t like that because he doesn’t know what you’re like. He
worries about me, that’s all. He wants to make sure I’m alright,” I told him
evenly, trying not to sound as angry as I was beginning to feel. Why Taylor was
being so jealous was beyond me.
“Ana, I know you
think I’m just being jealous. I’m not, ok? I worry about us because I’m not
here everyday for you. I’m thousands of miles away. I don’t want to lose you,”
he finally replied after a few moments of silence, taking one of my hands into
his and kissing the top of my hand gently.
“I know, Taylor,
but you need to trust me,” I replied wearily, tired of the subject I myself had
spent hours worrying about, and let loose a rush of air I hadn’t know I was
holding in. “I don’t know why you don’t trust me. If anything, I should wonder
what you’re doing when I’m not there.”
He was silent
and I somewhat regretted my harsh words when I saw the pain that flickered
across his face as his mouth tightened. He released my hand as he continued to
drive and when he finally did speak, I could hear the choking sound in the back
of his throat of the tears he refused to shed. “You don’t trust me?”
I looked over at
him as I spoke, my words soft even though I knew my eyes revealed the hardness
my voice hid. “Taylor, you used to sleep around. A different girl practically
every night. And if you’ve been faithful to me, that’s no sex for two months.
And from what you’ve said, sex was a drug to you. So you’ve gone cold turkey
for two months. It’s not that I don’t trust you, it’s just that those are the
facts. Facts are facts.”
Taylor sighed,
pulling the keys out of the ignition as we sat in front of my house, the panes
of glass on the front door catching the light of the sun glittering from the
sky. He turned to me, one hand raised to brush his fingers against my cheek
lightly, and a sad smile on his face. “Ana, it’s been hard as hell, you’re
right. An addiction is probably a good way of putting it. But people beat
addictions. Especially when they have a really good reason to.”
I smiled softly
as he passed his fingers over my lips, kissing his fingertips softly. “I told
you Taylor, it’s not that I don’t trust you. It’s just that nagging doubt, the
same way you just reacted the way you did to Jordan.” Taylor grinned and bent
his head sheepishly as I looked at him with a teasing grin. “Look, Tay, let’s
make something up and show up in New York late. Let’s just spend some time
here, alone. Me and you. Nic stayed after school for
cheerleading. They’ve got some things they have to work out for the squad this
year.”
“Alright,” he
replied, leaning over and kissing me gently, then reaching for the car door.
“But we should probably get out of the car.” I laughed at his comment, swinging
my book bag onto my shoulder and climbing out of the car, delighted as Taylor
wrapped his arms around me as I stood at the front door digging through my bag.
I dropped the bag on the floor, turning and locking the door behind me as I was
supposed to per order of my family.
Taylor smiled,
taking me into his arms and then bending down and lifting me up. I giggled
lightly as he turned toward the stairs and brought me into my room.
He set me down
on my bed, leaning over me with one knee on either side of my legs as he ran
his fingers through my hair. “God, I missed you,” he whispered softly as he
kissed me lightly, his lips soft against my skin. “I don’t think I realized how
much I missed you until now.”
“Mmm,” I muttered as Taylor continued to kiss me, so soft,
but his passion gaining strength as he brought his lips to mine, one hand
tangled into my hair so he could kiss me more deeply. I wrapped my arms around
him, drawing him closer to me, allowing his weight to rest more heavily on my
body.
It was the most
delicious feeling in the world to be in his arms again, to feel his mouth
against mine. I had missed this as much as I had missed everything else about
him since the summer. I dropped my arms back down to the mattress, gathering
bits of the blankets into my hands as our kisses grew in depth, in emotion.
I freaked.
Taylor had let
his hands trail down to my arms, taking my wrists into his hands. As he had
held me more tightly, kissed me more deeply, he had held my arms down against
the mattress. I shoved him away quickly, pulling away as he looked back at me,
puzzled as he wiped at his mouth. “Morgana?”
“Don’t hold me
down,” I whispered softly, rubbing at my wrists as I heard the tremor in my
voice. He hadn’t held me that tightly, but my wrists felt as if they’d been
burnt. “He held me down, Taylor…” I said hoarsely, the tears I’d done so well
to hide for months coming back to my eyes. It was like a bad movie that I just
couldn’t turn away from.
“Oh, Ana, I’m so
sorry. Oh, God, I didn’t even realize.” He moved closer to me, taking me into
his arms as the sobs broke free from me, spilling down my cheeks. I had done so
good, not crying for the last month. Not once. And now, just this one little
thing set me off into a fit.
I clutched at
Taylor, my arms wrapped around his neck as I pressed my cheek to his shoulder.
He kissed my forehead softly, whispering words of apology over and over again
in my ear as I cried. “I love you, Ana, God do I love you. I’m so sorry.”
“He held me down
Taylor. He held me down and he fucked me. He didn’t care. He held me down and
he fucked me like a God damned doll,” I sobbed bitterly into his shoulder, the
tears ripping from my eyes in angry rivers. “He didn’t care…”
“Whatever
you say, it’s alright,
Whatever you do, it’s all good,
Whatever you say, it’s alright,
Silence is not the way,
We need to talk about it,
If heaven is on the way...”
I didn’t understand, I really didn’t. God knew I tried to
understand. But I just didn’t. Instead I held her as she sobbed, rubbed her
back lightly as her tears soaked through my shirt. She kept choking out words
in-between her tears, bitter words of what that Matt guy had done to her.
“Taylor,
oh God, he was so harsh, so cruel. He laughed while he did it, he laughed!” she
cried softly, taking a deep breath, trying to get some air into her lungs.
I
knew that I had heard all this before. I knew that I had listened as she poured
her painful story out to me, right here on her bed. But I still found myself
becoming more and more livid with each tear that slid down her soft cheek.
I
didn’t say anything, just kissed her forehead lightly and hugged her tightly
for a moment, trying to comfort her even though I had no idea what to say. I
lay back against the pillows she had stacked against her headboard, pulling her
head down so she rested against my chest, laying beside me. I rubbed her back
lightly, trying desperately to soothe her.
Her
tears began to subside slowly as she lay next to me, becoming quieter as she
drew closer to me, her body ceasing to tremble. “Thank you,” she whispered
softly in my ear, drawing herself up further. “Thank you for listening.”
“Anytime,
Ana.” I kissed the top of her head softly, rubbing her back as lightly as I
could, trying desperately to give her the feeling of being loved I guessed she
must have been craving.
“I’m
so sorry I freaked,” she said quietly, snuggling against me and sighing deeply.
“I haven’t flipped out like that in a long time.”
“Morgana, it’s alright,” I told her, tracing patterns on her
back as she lay against me, the tightness of her shirt pleasant under my
fingertips. And to my eyes. She smiled softly, closing her eyes and laying
against me, one hand lazily draped over my stomach, the other tucked into my
hair.
“I
love you, baby,” she murmured quietly against my chest as she settled more
comfortably against me. “I love you more than you can understand.”
“I don’t think so. I love you just as much if not more,” I told
her as I kissed the top of her head, giving her a small hug. “I’m not going to
get upset with you because of what you’ve been through. I’m not going to insist
on a really sexual relationship. I just want for us to be together, happy and
in love. And if it means that we do things differently then the rest of the
world, so be it.”
“Taylor,
how did God ever make somebody so perfect?” she asked me softly, turning and
raising one hand to run her fingers over my bangs, bangs that always, seemingly
permanently, hung in my eyes since they
had been cut.
“I’m
not perfect,” I replied quietly, stroking her arm with the tips of my fingers,
fingers that were callused heavily from my dedication to music. “Not by any
stretch of the imagination.”
“You’re
perfect to me,” was her response as she brought her mouth to mine, open palm
pressed to my cheek. I smiled as she pulled back momentarily, swinging one of
her legs across my body so she lay across me, her hands gripping my shoulders
as she looked into my eyes. I slouched down further against her pillows so that
we both lay on her mattress, a pleasant tangle of limbs.
She
pulled up my shirt, slipping it over my head and letting it fall down to the
light blue carpeting that covered her floor. Grinning as she lowered her mouth
down to my neck, she kissed me softly, dropping kisses across my collarbones
and across my neck.
“What’re
you doing?” I whispered softly, laughing quietly as she let her tongue flicker
out to add more warmth to my already burning skin.
“You’ll
see,” she whispered back, picking her head up for a moment to grin
mischievously at me. Then she lowered her mouth back down to my body as I let
my eyes slip closed, reveling in the sensation of her mouth against my skin.
She nuzzled her lips against the nape of my neck, working her mouth around the
deliciously sensitive skin. I moaned softly as she let her teeth graze over my
skin, as she became a little more aggressive in her kisses, sucking on the
tender flesh. Then she pulled back, grinning wildly at me. “No tank-tops for
you in public,” she said softly, giggling as I raised my fingers to the spot on
my neck. It was sore to the touch as I looked back over at her, shaking my
head.
“C’mere,” I demanded playfully, tugging her back down so she
lay across me once again. I grinned as she adjusted her body so she was more
comfortable, and whether she realized it or not, rubbed up against me in just
the right way. I looked up at her as she lay down, grinning as she brought her
mouth to mine to kiss me again, letting one hand play with my hair and the
other on my cheek. My hands wandered along her sides, rubbing her body lightly
and letting my fingertips glide along her breasts as we continued to kiss.
When
I did pull away from her, she pouted lightly, giving me what appeared to be a
disappointed look. “What?” I asked softly, brushing away the hair that hung
into her eyes as she leaned over me again.
“Nothing.”
She sighed softly, climbing off me and going to her closet. She took out a bag
and reached back into her clothes.
“You
didn’t even pack your things yet?” I asked incredulously, gaping as she began
to take clothes from closet and place them into her bag.
“Nope.”
She looked up as I walked over, wrapping my arms around her waist and kissing
her shoulder. The bare skin of my chest pressed against her back, the tight
shirt she wore, and I longed to take the shirt off of her, to hold her against
me. “Tay, stop,” she told me sharply, pushing me away as I tried to move so she
would kiss me.
“What’s
wrong?” I asked lightly, taking her desk chair and sitting on it backwards so
that I could face her. She sighed and rolled her eyes, only taking out a skirt
from her closet and holding it up. “Am I going to need anything more dressy
than this?” she asked impatiently, ignoring my question as she waved the skirt
in front of me. I looked at the shimmery purple
fabric and shook my head.
“That’s
fine,” I told her. But then I stood up, taking the clothes from her hands. I
grabbed her shoulders firmly, forcing her to look at me. “Morgana,
tell me what’s wrong. What did I do?”
“Taylor…”
She sighed heavily, avoiding looking at me. “Alright, I’m happy that you’re not
obsessed with sex and all, but you know, it would be nice if you wouldn’t push
me away so quickly.” I was silent as she went back to putting clothes into her
bag, silent as she refused to even look at me.
Oh
fuck this, I thought to myself, a plan forming in my mind. Alright, she wanted
me to be more physical with her, then fine. She was going to get more physical
and that damned shirt was too tempting anyway. I got up slowly, waiting as she
turned around to look at me. I took the clothes from her hands, and dropped
them onto the floor, ignoring the look she gave me. I instead held her
challenging stare and when she looked away, I scooped her up off the floor and
walked over to her bed.
Then
I swung one leg on either side of her hips, tugging up her shirt over her head
and throwing it down onto the floor. The black shirt gave way to a white bra
that was a tad bit see-through and Morgana’s somewhat
shocked, yet pleased, smile. She was silent as I began to kiss her, softly at
first around her neck, but then with more aggression, moving down her body. I
let my mouth wander across her stomach, then I let my tongue slip out, licking
her delicious, sweet skin. It was beautifully soft, sensitive and easy to toy
with. I wrapped my tongue around her waist, knowing she was ticklish; I let my
mouth wander up to her breasts again. I left a trail of kisses along the
outline of her bra, tugging the straps down her arms so I could kiss her
shoulders, so that I could move my mouth across her delicate collarbones. I was
becoming a bit breathless as I continued to kiss her, but still brought my
mouth to hers, relishing how she ran her fingers through my hair, held my mouth
against hers as our tongues melded. I tugged lightly on her bottom lip with my
teeth, and then sucked softly, her soft
whimper of pleasure rising to my ears as I resumed kissing her, my arms
going around her back to un-do the clasp of her bra.
“You
just say when, Morgana,” I whispered softly, sliding
the straps of her bra down her arms.
She
didn’t say anything as I let her bra fall down to the ground, only looked back
up at me and scanned my eyes with her beautiful green ones. I lowered my mouth
to her breasts again, soft flesh filling my mouth as I sucked lightly on the
tender skin, letting my tongue swirl around her body. I heard her inhale
sharply, trying to catch her breath. Obviously it wasn’t working too well because
there was air rushing through her voice as she moaned softly, her eyes closed
and her lips half-parted. When I brought my mouth back to hers, she pulled me
against her tightly, capturing my lips with her eager mouth, her passionate
kisses.
She
reached down my body, un-doing the button of my pants and pushing them off of
my body, down over my hips and into a heap at the foot of her bed.
“Morgana,” I started softly as she let her hands wander over
my lower back, down to the side of my hips, the inside of my legs. I drew in a
sharp breath and tried desperately to control the urge to just grab her and
hold her against her bed, to give in to what I had wanted to do for months. “Morgana, are you…” My voice was cut off as I moaned softly
again, burying my face against her shoulder as she slid her hands into my
boxers, ran her fingers over the hardness she had caused. They languished with
light strokes, bringing out the moans resting on my lips. My teeth sank lightly
into her shoulder as her touch picked up in pace, the groan muffled by her
steamy flesh.
It
wasn’t much longer before I forgot all of the restrictions I’d placed on
myself. All the times I told myself to wait, keep it as something special
between us… they just evaporated as mist into the air. It had never been a
matter of physical time having passed; it had been an instinct of mine to just
wait.
I
gained a different set of instincts.
Reaching
for her pants, I pulled them off of her body quickly and easily, fingers nimble
and able. Ran my fingertips along the inside of her thighs, her own hands now
lingering on my back. The soft moans that escaped from her mouth were too much,
and I took her body against mine and made love to her like I never had to
anybody before.
When
she lay still beside me beneath her sheets, her face bathed in a faint layer of
sweat, I turned to her, kissing her cheek softly. Our hands lay entwined on the
pillows as I leaned closer to her. “I love you, Ana,” I whispered softly, kissing her lips gently.
“I
love you too, Tay,” she murmured back, eyes half-shut as she rolled onto her
side and cuddled her body against mine, warm and slightly damp with our sweat.
“When’s
anybody going to be back?” I asked softly, kissing her forehead lightly and
wrapping my arm around her back.
“Another
hour or so. I want to just lie here for a few more minutes, but then we should
leave so your mother doesn’t get upset,” she said quietly, her cheek against my
chest as she mindlessly traced patterns on my skin.
“Oh,
don’t worry about it, I’ve got Zac and Ike who’ll cover for me,” I whispered
softly, kissing her forehead fondly again. I loved her so much that it almost
hurt me, physically. Though it was a feeling I had never experienced before and
not one I was used to in the least, I appreciated it and loved it. I rubbed her
back softly, skin hot to the touch.
“Mmm,” she sighed softly as she buried her lips into my skin
again. She lay still, content to be right where we were and in the position we
were in.
And
god dammit, I was content as hell. I mean, yeah, I
did love her with all my heart, and I did care about her. I respected that what
happened to her was a traumatic experience and that all the physical parts of
our relationship tended to be rather delicate. But I loved sex. Absolutely
loved it…
Therefore,
it was great to know that I had it back. I knew that sounded incredibly… like a
player or something. But that was my history and there was nothing I could do
about that.
“We
should get going,” she said quietly, sitting up and leaning over. She kissed me
softly, slowly, and started to pull back the sheets.
“No, c’mere,” I whispered, pulling her closer to me again. She
giggled lightly under her breath, smiling.
“What?”
she asked playfully, leaning on her elbows and gazing at me with eyes that shone
brilliantly with the fire of the summer skies. She let her fingers trail down
my skin and then back up with a soft tickling effect that made goose bumps rise
across my flesh.
I
grinned softly, gazing at the beautiful face that I loved with all my heart. I
brushed her damp hair back from her eyes and kissed her gently, softly. Then
released her and slid out from under her sheets, reaching for my clothes that
sat discarded carelessly on her floor.
“I’m gonna take a shower,” she said softly, kissing my cheek and
walking out of the room, not bothering with clothes and shutting the bathroom
door softly behind her.
“I
could use one too,” I called after her, a devilish grin spreading across my
lips. The door creaked open and she popped her head out with an amused grin
waiting for me.
“Hmm,
I don’t know. I did want to shower.”
She gave me a pointed look but remained standing at the door as I continued to
stare at her, pleading silently. Not that she wasn’t staring at me. I knew damn
well that those eyes of hers roamed my body quite freely. “Oh, all right.” She
shook her head as she gave in, turning as she left the bathroom door open and
turned back to the steam that spilt from the shower.
As I
closed the door behind us, I walked over to her, kissing her shoulder softly.
Her skin was smooth and wonderful.
So we
showered… and messed around. Made love in the shower again, this time more
slowly, more sensually. She was a sensualist, and that was just fine.
I
found myself gazing at her as she dressed, sitting back on her bed with my
clothes already covering my skin. Damp hair hung around my face, smelling
pleasantly of her shampoo as I looked at her. She was standing inside her
closet door wearing a black pair of tight, mock-leather pants and her bra,
sifting through her shirts.
On
impulse, I rose and walked over to her. Her own hair with its long length, was
pulled into a messy bun, and I gently pulled it free, watching as it tumbled
over her shoulders in thick ringlets. Kissed her softly and draped my arms
around her. Sighed with nothing more than the total feeling of contentness being around her gave me.
“Tay,
my hair was pulled back for a reason,” she chided gently as she turned back to
me, but dropped a soft kiss on my cheek anyway. I stepped away as she reached
for a shirt, this one a deep purple with rhinestones spelling out the words Rock Star. It was as tight as the shirt
she had been wearing before.
I was
slightly disappointed when she pulled her hair back again into the loose knot.
I was laying back on her bed again, having first been assigned the task of
fixing the blankets so that they lay perfectly undisturbed across her bed.
“Alright,
I’m done. Let’s get down to New York before your mother gets really suspicious.
We’re already going to get hell from your brothers,” she said softly as she sat
beside me. She leaned down and brushed her lips against mine, lips that were
free of make-up even if her eyes weren’t.
“Finally,”
I said playfully, sitting up and taking her leather bag in my hands. After I
had thrown her bag into the trunk of the rental car, I took her into my arms
once more. Crushed her against me with intense passion. Then released her,
leaving her trying to catch her breath as I dropped into the driver’s seat.
When
we arrived in New York, I knew I was in for it. I just had that feeling, that
slight ache in the pit of my stomach that told me, “Taylor, you’re screwed.”
Not to mention the ache of a certain patch of skin on my neck topping off the
premonition of dread.
Which
is why when we got into the hotel room I was thoroughly shocked my parents
weren’t waiting there for me with glares. And that there was no message from
them with my brothers, who were playing an innocent enough game of cards.
“Where
have you two been?” Isaac didn’t bother looking up. I didn’t have to see his
eyes to hear the tone of voice, that implied teasing.
“At
Ana’s.” Nothing more was offered as I took her hand and led her into the
bedroom that was supposed to be for just her. No, that was not happening. I was
staying there with her. And the afternoon’s activities made that even clearer
to me.
She
told me she had to go to the bathroom, so I wandered back to my brothers. They
looked at me expectantly, the cards momentarily forgotten.
“So,
where were you?” Zac pressed, looking at me curiously. Me, the one with the
dopey grin, disheveled hair, and the shirt I had once been wearing over my
T-shirt MIA.
“At
Ana’s,” I repeated, but this time it was with a knowing grin, a careful wink of
the eye. I slid my shirt over to expose my shoulder for a moment, grin
broadening over content features. Isaac caught it and grinned at me.
“Well,
you must be happy. Your arm must have been getting pretty sore trying to… well,
you must be happy.” Isaac laughed at me as I blushed a deep burgundy.
But I
had a response. Granted, it wasn't that great, but it was a response. That was
to look at his laughing eyes, flip my middle finger up, say, “Fuck you,” in an
even voice and walk away.
Morgana was laying on the bed when I came back,
a soft smile stretched across her lips as I walked over to where she lay. The
door was closed behind me with the lock secured tightly. She looked at me with
a mischievous grin as I lay beside her. “Would they hear?”
“No,
they never did before.” I toyed with her shirt, licking my lips before leaning
down to kiss her softly, gently. “But honestly, not tonight.”
She
laughed lightly, her quiet giggles floating over the air as she snuggled close.
“Tomorrow night after your concert, when you’re horny as hell from the tank-top
girls.”
“I
won’t look if you don’t want me to.”
“No,
you can look. Cause when it comes down to it, you’re still my baby and I have
you in my bed at night.” Her fingers trailed along my jaw as she spoke, yet her
eyes rested on my mouth. And when her lips replaced her eyes, I gave in to her
soft touch and curled close.
“Besides,
Taylor, I know you. You would never be able to resist looking.”
And
as her soft laughter rang through the room, I knew she was right and hung my
head in mock-shame. But then I kissed her again and didn’t care that she
laughed at me. As long as she still loved me.
“As
darkness craves the mind,
As
we come undone without our pride,
No
time on earth to come,
All
the pleasures just begun,
Forty
miles from the sun…”
His body was
incredibly warm beside mine when I woke up, bare chest soft against my arms.
Light poked through the cracks of the curtains, the New York sky-line filtering
through with the light. I sighed quietly to myself instead of getting up to
adjust the curtains so that the light wasn't in my eyes and curled closer to
Taylor, eyes squeezed against the light.
The moment was
peaceful as he continued to sleep beside me, his chest rising and falling
beneath my cheek with each breath he took. I knew we didn’t have to be down to
Nassau Coliseum until four, so I was perfectly fine. Kind of tempted to wake
him up and have some fun, but perfectly fine none the less.
So we had
finally done it. After all of Taylor’s pleas to wait longer, whatever he was
waiting for… he had finally given in. I knew that I would get him to
eventually. It was only a matter of time before he did. I mean, we’re talking
about one of his favorite activities. Like hell he could have held out much
longer.
I propped myself
up on one elbow, watching him sleep. He smiled though his dreams, his hair
falling in a wild mess over his face, into his eyes. Reaching over for the
fallen strands, I brushed them back softly from his eyes. I sighed, knowing I
wouldn’t be able to sleep again, and not wanting to wake Taylor.
Instead of
continuing to tempt myself by laying beside him, I got up to take a shower.
As I entered the
bathroom, it was with a wistful grazing of my fingers over the marble counters
and all the detailed molding. I was in a suite in the fucking Plaza with my
millionaire boyfriend,
(age 17)
and I was going
to have to hide in the shadows all day long. I was going to have to pretend
that I was working at the venue, that I was just another teenybopper fan… Any
or all of the above, I supposed.
It was a hard
relationship I decided. I loved Taylor and I wasn’t just thinking, ‘oh no, no
attention for me’. But the fact that we had to hide and sneak around wasn’t
that comforting. He loved me and I loved him. And the reason we couldn’t just
walk down the street like a normal couple was because of, oh, say, a couple
thousand screaming teenyboppers.
Now, Ana, I
thought silently as I let the bathroom door lean closed. I didn’t want to wake
Taylor up with the sound of the water. You were one of those teenyboppers at
one time. You didn’t always have Taylor all to yourself.
Yeah, but I
would have never attacked his girlfriend. Christ, I had just wanted to give him
a compliment and go back to enjoying my
coffee.
The mirrors were
becoming clouded with steam as the water continued to run in the shower.
Wasting water…
I sighed softly
as I stepped into the warmth of the water, the glass door closing behind me.
The steam and warm water were comforting to my racing mind and I just leaned
back against the tiles and let the water run over me.
“Morgana?” I heard Taylor’s sleepy voice as the door opened
silently. No creaking in this hotel.
“Yeah?”
“What’re you
doing? I woke up and you were gone.”
“I’m taking a
shower.” A grin caught my mouth as I thought of the last shower I had taken.
“Care to join me?”
His low laugher
bounce faintly off the walls before the door opened to reveal his naked body.
“I thought you’d never ask.” His eyes danced over my figure as he closed the
frosted-glass door behind us.
I giggled
lightly as he kissed me, the water warming his cool arms and shoulders. And it
was only a matter of time before I was wrapped in his arms, my body tightly
pressed both to the frigid tiles and his burning body. It was an interesting
combination of extremes.
I was beginning
to think that taking a shower was a much more entertaining activity than most
imagined.
Taylor got out
first, wrapping a towel around his waist and then holding out one of the fluffy
pieces of fabric for me to step into. I giggled lightly as I spun until I was
wrapped in the towel and then stood on my toes to kiss Taylor again.
His eyelashes
were dripping and moist as he looked over at me, blue bottomless eyes staring
back. He only leaned against the counter and waited for me to approach him
before pulling me to him.
“Tay, where are
your brothers?” I asked suddenly, the thought of a spying Zac or Isaac creeping
into my mind. Or a blackmailing Zac…
“Mmm… I dunno. Around.” His voice
was muffled now because his mouth was on my throat, his hands really the only
thing keeping my towel around me. Though they soon began to wander…
“What do you
think you’re doing?” I pulled away from him, smiling coyly as I tightened the
towel around me. “Did I not give you enough or something?”
He looked back
at me with eyes that said it all. His lips curled into a soft pout as I walked
away, adding an extra sway to my hips for his benefit.
“Taylor, just
remember this. When we back here tonight, we can do whatever you want to do,
ok?” I grinned, letting everything in my eyes show as I gazed back over at him.
“Anything?” He
ran his tongue over his lips delicately, looking over at me again. “Alright, I
guess you’re worth waiting for.”
“Oh, not to
mention our little shower.” He grinned sheepishly at my comment and reached
into his bag for his clothes. And proceeded to get dressed incredibly slowly…
* * *
“Excuse,
me, Miss, you’re not allowed back here.” The guy in front of me had to be one
of the biggest men I have ever seen in my natural life. His bulky arms that
hardly resembled anything, save for steel, were crossed over a chest that
puffed out with importance. Feigned importance, I should add.
I
sighed wearily. This was the fourth security guard that had tried to stop me. I
just wanted to get into the guys’ dressing room and kiss Taylor before he went
onstage. I had promised him he could have that. And the clock was ticking.
Fishing
my pass out from my pocket, I presented the bright orange plastic. It had ‘All
Access’ printed on it in thick black lettering under the large statement of
‘VIP’. He examined me suspiciously, turning the pass over and over in massive
hands before handing it back. I moved to walk around him, but he stepped in my
way.
“Would
you like to tell me what a girl like you is doing back here?”
Once
again, I resisted a loud groan. Yes, I was dressed in an outfit that seemed to
scream “Ax-murder”, with tight black leather pants and a camisole-wannabe
shirt. I had a rhinestone collar around my neck, as well as a vast assortment
of other necklaces. And a pair of clunky boots completed the outfit. Not to
mention, the elaborate make-up and rhinestones on my face.
“I
have a pass, don’t I?” I asked tersely, shoving it back into my pocket. I moved
to walk around him again, but one of the meaty hands reached out and grasped my
shoulder.
“Miss,
you need to tell me what you’re doing back here. This area is for band members
only.”
“Charles!”
The guy turned around, only to see Taylor standing there with his own arms
folded over his chest. “She does have a pass. Let her through.” His voice was
soft, yet commanding and I couldn’t help but smirk at Charles as I walked past him.
Taylor
shot me a bright grin and then quickly grabbed my shoulders as we turned the
corner. I instantly found myself pressed tightly to the wall, one of his hands
behind my neck, the other gently rubbing against my breast, mouth devoured mine. He finally released me,
breathless, yet grinning.
I
draped my arms carefully over his shoulders, let one hand wander down to the
pocket of his fitted pants. Yanked him close to me so I could feel him against
me. Grinned as he engulfed me in kisses again.
“Just
wait until we get back to that hotel,” he purred softly in my ear, his hands
the only thing supporting me anymore. I was mere melted butter in his arms,
wanting nothing more that to feel his arms, his touch… “I am going to make you
feel so nice.”
“How
long before you go on-stage?” I asked quietly, eyeing him with a hint of
mischief.
“Not
long enough for that.”
“I
think it’s long enough… I don’t need that much time.” I held his stare, then my
hands wandered down to the zipper of his pants, which had become surprisingly
tight.
“But
I want to have a long time… I know things about the female body, Ana.” His eyes
held mine again, but he didn’t stop me from stroking him softly through the
pants.
“I
wasn't talking about that, Taylor.” My voice was even as he looked back up at
me, caught sight of my tongue brushing over my lips. “I was thinking more of
something for you.”
“Oh,
I think there’s time for that…” He suddenly folded me into his arms again, his
mouth tight against my own. I couldn’t breath, yet I didn’t care.
“Taylor!”
A grinning Zac stood waiting at the far end of the hallway, arms crossed in
that familiar pose. “C’mon, we’re on in two minutes.”
“Dammit!” Taylor looked longingly at me, running his hands
over my face, my mouth. He sighed, then leaned forward again. This time, his
kiss was tender and loving and I smiled softly as he pulled away. “I love you.”
He buried his face against my neck as we walked, slowly, towards the stage.
“And you smell good.”
I
gave him a tiny smirk as we stopped again, right out of sight of the people on
the side of the stage. “One minute!” someone shouted, followed by an
aggravated, “And where the hell is Taylor?”
“They’re
waiting for you.”
“Let
them wait.” His eyes scoured over me again, his fingertips racing over my face,
my eyes. “I’m singing to you out there,” he promised softly, running his thumb
over my cheek. One more soft kiss, another exchange of “I love you’s” and he walked away.
But
not without me reaching out and slapping his cute ass.
He
whirled around, shooting a sarcastic little grin at me. His head shook softly
as the technicians swarmed around him, attacking him as the call of thirty
seconds rang out. He blew me a kiss and then joined his brothers in revving
themselves up before taking the stage.
And
so began the deafening screams…
I
remained carefully on the side of the stage, Taylor’s side, of course, and
watched as he sang. As he raced across the stage over and over, taunting the
young girls in the front rows. As he bounded close enough so that they could
almost touch his soft pants. And then as he raced back out of their grasp with
that smirk I was so used to seeing.
He
came off-stage sweaty and grinning. When I pressed my hand against his chest,
his heart raced with the adrenaline of the stage and his eyes flashed
brilliantly. “We’re going back for another two songs,” he whispered softly in
my ear, dropping a kiss on my forehead and folding me into sweaty arms.
“Oh,
but you couldn’t resist coming over here?”
“Nope.”
Eyes flashing merrily at me, he kissed me once again, a soft, gentle kiss that
still somehow stole my breath.
“Hey,
Tay, c’mon, the crowd doesn’t care about you sucking face with your girlfriend!”
Zac was now tugging Taylor free of my grasp and his soft eyes were pleading and
filled with yearning as Zac dragged him away. But it was only momentary as he
took the stage once again. And if only Isaac hadn’t given me that oh-so-wistful
look, it might have been a perfect moment.
I will hold you close,
if you’re afraid of heights,
I need you to see this
place,
It might be the only
way,
I can show you how it
feels,
To be inside you...”
Her stomach rose and fell in a steady rhythm, pale skin
strikingly smooth and glistening faintly. The charcoal sheets had been
un-twisted now and lay comfortably over her legs. Sleepy eyes looked over at me
and tired hands stroked my cheek lightly.
“You ok?” I whispered softly, taking her hand and kissing her
fingers lightly. We had been in that bed for hours and the last time we had
made love had been long and deliciously rough.
“I’m tired.” Her smile was delighted, content, as she snuggled
up to me, her naked breasts rubbing against my chest in quite the tempting
fashion.
“Did I wear you out?” I teased lightly, wrapping my arm around
her bare back. Gently, tantalizingly, I let my fingers trace patterns lower and
lower on her back until the smooth curve of her bottom was under my fingers.
She fidgeted slightly beneath my touch, but sighed with utter pleasure. Lips
against my shoulder momentarily, kissing the bruise she’d created, before
laying still against me again.
Her breath was getting deeper as her eyes slid shut, arms
surrounding me becoming relaxed. A soft grin spread across my face, reaching
into my eyes as I turned and blew out the candles that were lit on the bed
stand. It was a thing of Morgana’s; she didn’t like
the lights that were in the room. If there was going to be light, it was going
to be candlelight.
Not like I cared. I loved candles. I loved how soft her skin
looked in it, and the warmth it gave her.
The room was plunged into darkness and, worn from the concert
and by the soft body that was all but asleep beside me, my eyes slid shut and
that was the end of the night.
For once, I was awake before her the next morning. Careful not
to wake Sleepy Beauty, I groped around on the floor for the basketball shorts I
had been wearing the day before once I got off-stage. After locating them, I
slipped out of the room, now decently covered.
Isaac was sitting on the couch, flipping through the numerous
channels that were available with such a room as the one we had. His eyes
appeared blood-shot and swollen. And it suddenly occurred to me that the glass
that sat on the table held the amber color of alcohol.
“Isaac?” He looked up quickly, seeming to wince with the sudden
movement as I gingerly sat down beside him. “Hey, you ok?”
“Yeah, I’m fine. How was your night?” He flashed me a jesting
grin that was forced to a degree. Very forced.
“It was great.” No point in lying to him. “She’s still
sleeping.” I leaned back against the couch, tossing a sideways glance at him.
“Are you sure you’re alright?”
“Taylor!” he snapped, standing suddenly. He lurched forward and
then dropped back down to the couch, angry with himself now as much as me.
“You’re drunk.”
“Don’t even start Taylor. You’ve been drunk countless times. And
I am not.” His voice was biting as he glared at me, reaching for the glass on
the table and downing the remaining contents.
“I had my reasons.”
“And I have mine!” he replied bitterly, reaching for the bottle
that was on the floor beside him. He filled the glass to the rim and starting
sipping it again.
“Well, what are they?”
He was silent as I looked at him, him the one with a tall glass
of bourbon and swollen eyes. Him the one that glared at me with such acidity.
“Isaac!”
“We broke up!” he finally shouted at me, his voice ringing
loudly in my ears at the sudden volume. “We fucking broke up!”
I sat in shock as he let his eyes close, tears streaking down
his face as he turned to the couch, buried his face. The glass began to slip as
I took it gently from his hands and set it on the table. The smell of it was
nauseating to me, the one who had consumed way more than a human being should
at one sitting one night months ago. And now could never drink the poison
again.
“When?”
“She came by the day before we left, when everyone was gone.”
The words were choked and slurred almost beyond recognition, but I had ears
trained to understand drunk people.
After all, it wasn’t too long ago I had been one of them.
“Why?”
“Because Taylor! Christ, like you would understand! You’ve never
lost a girl you love.” Such bitterness for me again as he sat up and glared at
me. “You know what Taylor? It’s just not fair. You, the one who treated women
like absolute shit, have a girlfriend that loves you, beyond a doubt. She’s not
going to just drop you. And of course, now, you treat her like a princess.
But me, the one who has always strove to be respectful, to be loving and kind,
just got the most fucked up deal.”
His eyes accused me of all the things that his words just
couldn’t. And suddenly I was angry. Furious. What right did he have to…
“Isaac, I deserve the happiness I have,” I said quietly, toying
with my shorts as I tried desperately to keep my voice level. “You seem to
think that all the things I did were great. I had a lot of lonely nights and a
lot of pain with that.”
“You brought it upon yourself,” he spat, snatching his drink
back from the table and taking another few gulps of it before slamming it back
down.
“Alright, Isaac, that’s just fine. I’m just trying to help
before you end up where I have already been. It’s not a fun place. But if you
want to sit there and be a dick, you go right ahead and do that. I’ll just go
back to my loving girlfriend sleeping in my bed.”
See Isaac, I can throw a few nasty hits too, I thought fiercely
as I rose quickly and went back to my room. Morgana
was still sleeping soundly, her back bare as she lay with her arms curled
around a pillow. I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself from the anger
that coursed through my veins with Isaac’s words echoing in my mind.
Chill, Taylor, chill. He just broke up with his girlfriend. He’s
bound to be a little… not himself.
I need a shower. That’s what I need. A nice hot shower that fogs
up the doors and mirror.
Leaving my shorts in the bedroom, I walked into the bathroom
naked and turned on the water. The reflection in the mirror caught my eye as I
turned away, waiting for the water to warm to an acceptable temperature.
I was pale still, even though it was near the end of summer and
I had had almost three full months of sitting in the sun. But my eyes sparkled
behind their golden eyelashes... sparkled even though I wasn’t on-stage. There
was a change from the past two years.
Turning away from the mirror, I discovered my shower had
pleasantly warmed itself. The water poured down, relaxing me with its caressing
rivulets, the heat melting away my anger with Isaac.
Suddenly overcome with a child’s foolishness, I shook my head,
laughing in delight as the water sprayed out from my golden locks. I took a
deep breath, quieting my laughter as I played with the silver cross around my
neck, so ornate and delicate. It was Celtic in design, come to think of it.
Perhaps a strand of her family had been Irish. It sure as hell would explain
those enchanting green eyes of hers. And her pagan religion.
Now calmed, and clean, I stepped out of the shower, wrapping a
towel around my waist and walking back into the bedroom with water running from
my hair down my chest. Morgana was still asleep.
I slid into my clothes, soft well worn khakis and an equally
worn black T-shirt. After depositing the towels in the bathroom, I sat
carefully on the bed beside her. “Did I tire you out?” I whispered softly,
leaning down to kiss her forehead, hoping she wouldn’t be woken up.
When she remained still, breathing deep and even, I got up and
found the red-leather book with my name embossed in gold lettering on the
cover. Pages upon pages filled with my somewhat messy scrawl, just one volume
of the dozen or so I had hidden in my room back home.
September
3, 2000
Ah,
there are no words to describe last night, all of yesterday in fact. I went to
get Morgana from school the afternoon before, (though
the meeting of her ‘friend’ wasn’t that fun) and took her back to her house to
get her things. Well, it took a little bit of an argument and some careful
persuasion, (on her part!), but I finally got her. Or rather she got me…
I
love my life.
And
God, do I love sex…
She’s
just got the most amazing body. So beautiful… and so damn sexy… the first time
I was with her was ok and everything, but last night… I never knew that one
girl could make me feel like that. Even after all the girls I’d been with,
nothing really compares to what last night was like.
We
got back to the hotel around 8:30 after the show and all the backstage and
promo work. And from the time we entered our bedroom until maybe two in the
morning, we just enjoyed each other in the best sex of my life. She just has
this touch, this way of making me feel so good… making me want her, I guess,
and then not letting me have her right away. But I suppose I made her feel real
nice too… but I did kind of tire her out, cause she’s still sleeping. I hope I
didn’t hurt her.
It
was just great though… from these soft tender kisses that I know she loves, to
all the passion that we shared… thinking about it just makes me ache for her
all over again.
But
of course, there’s much more to my beauty than the awesome sex. She’s so
gentle, so loving. She was there yesterday at the show. Smiling at me from the
side of the stage whenever I looked over at her, shaking her head at our
antics… and of course, letting me and my sweaty body be folded into her arms
for stolen kisses.
I
love her, I really do. I know that I’ve said that for some time now, but it’s
just as true now as it was the first time I said it. She’s just an amazing
girl, unique and so special to me. I don’t know what I would do without her.
But
of course, Isaac is having a fit this morning. (or is it afternoon?)
Apparently, him and Becca broke up and it’s my fault.
That’s how he’s acting anyway. Total asshole, completely drunk, and he starts
making digs at me. Tells me that I don’t deserve my happiness with Morgana, that I don’t deserve her and all her love. Tells
me that all my misery I brought upon myself. And while he is partially right…
For
the sake of our friendship as brothers, I seriously hope it was just the booze
talking. I mean, he is really, really drunk and I know from experience that you
tend to say things you later regret.
I
think Morgana is starting to wake up. I want to go
kiss her before she opens her eyes.
I shut the book quietly and slid it back into its spot in my
suitcase before creeping quietly over to where Morgana
was starting to stir. And with one of my almost trademark grins, I leaned down
and let my lips just barely rest against hers.
Her mouth pressed back against mine, lips parting to let her
tongue slide in my mouth and wander briefly. It was her wandering hands that
discovered my clothes.
“Baby,” she whimpered softly, opening her eyes and gathering the
blankets around herself. “Why did you get dressed?”
“Because I took a shower.”
“Without me?” Her face drew up into a mock-sulking pout.
“I can take another.”
“Mm… ouch!” she cried suddenly as she drew herself into a
sitting position. She moaned as she eased herself back down to the pillows. “Or
maybe not,” she added with a wry smile.
“What’s wrong?”
“I’m feeling a little sore,” she replied, a soft blush rising
into her cheeks as she mumbled her response. “I’m not… used to that.”
“I should’ve known better. I’m sorry I hurt you.” I lay beside
her, on top on the blankets, kissed her cheek lightly. “I can’t believe I
didn’t-”
“Tay,” she cut in softly, placing a finger to my lips, “last
night was amazing, ok? I liked everything we did. I just get to pay the price
of all that pleasure, so to speak.” Her hands wandered over my face lightly as
she spoke. She kissed me as she massaged my shoulders.
“So, Ana,” I said softly,
pulling the blanket back so only the sheet covered her.
“Wait a sec,” she told me, tugging back the sheet. She took the
shirt I was wearing, tugging it lightly off of me, then pulling it over her own
head. Her hands went next to my pants, which I kicked off, following her train
of thought as I slid under the sheets with her.
“Alright,” I began again, her body warm as she snuggled closer
to me, her eyes sliding shut again. “So, about this Halloween party…” I dropped
a soft kiss against her shoulder, smiling at her delighted giggles. “What’re
you going to be?”
“I think I’ll be a dominatrix.”
“Ooo,” I whispered softly in her ear,
giving her waist a little squeeze before letting one hand wander under her
shirt. Her breasts were warm as the rest of her, and just as soft, as I ran my
fingers over them. “I like the sound of that.”
“Yes, but for the rest of the people, that’s a little surprise.”
Her eyes slid open and her tongue ran over her lips lightly as she looked up at
me. “What’re you going to be?”
“Hmm… I haven’t decided yet. But if you’re going to be a
dominatrix, I guess I’ll just have to be your slave.” A hungry kiss devoured
her as I finished speaking, curling her into my arms and letting my hands
wander under the shirt.
“Mm… Tay, I’m sorry, but I meant it. I hurt.” She gave me an
apologetic grin after shooing my hands away. A soft sigh escaped her lips and
then she was snuggled against me again.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered stroking her back lightly. “I really
should’ve known better.”
“Taylor, chill, alright. I knew. I chose to ignore the fact.
It’s my own fault. Besides, it’s a good sore.”
I fell silent again, toying with the long strands of hair that
tumbled down her back. My little angel, I thought with a grin.
“What the hell!” My head turned sharply as I heard a loud crash
against the door, followed by shouting.
“Tay, what’s going on?” Morgana looked
at me with a soft, puzzled look. Her eyes darted to the door again as the
shouting continued.
“I don’t know,” I muttered back as I scrambled out of bed and
cautiously opened the door. Isaac was
sitting on the couch, sobbing into the pillows, and Zac was standing motionless
to the side of my door. His arm sparkled with bit of alcohol, and looking down
I discovered a shattered glass at my feet.
“What happened?” I asked quietly, yanking my younger brother
into the room and shutting the door behind us.
“I got up and came out here and Isaac was sitting on the couch.
He never went to bed last night, ya know. And I asked
him why he didn’t and he just started shouting at me. I don’t understand much
of what he said, but he screamed something about you and then chucked the glass
at your door,” Zac said slowly, looking up at me with suspicious eyes. “Are you
guys fighting?”
“No, I don’t think. He broke up with Becca
the day before we left,” I revealed, walking back over to the bed and sitting
beside Morgana, who had since replaced the blankets
over her legs. The shirt she was wearing wasn’t very long.
“Oh, poor Becca,” Morgana
mumbled softly, toying with the blankets.
“What!” I whirled around, staring at her incredulously. “Poor Becca! Isaac said that she
broke up with him!”
“You don’t know the whole story Taylor. And don’t ask me to tell
you because I can’t and it’s only going to make things worse between me and you
if you try and find out from me.” Her voice was quiet, even as she spoke. She
looked at me with a pleading stare, begging me not to make her refuse something
of me. When I was silent, she sighed with a twinge of relief and rose. “I’m
going to take a shower.”
She tugged the shirt down over her as she walked into the
bathroom, just barely covering herself. The door shut and I found myself
exchanging a puzzled look with my younger brother.
“All the times that I’ve cried,
All this wasting, it’s all inside,
And I feel all this pain,
Stuffed it down, it’s back again,
And I lie here in bed,
All alone I can’t mend,
And I feel tomorrow will be ok,
Whatever…”
June has got to be one of the best
months.
Or so I used to think.
Because this June, I did something
really stupid. This past June, even though I love him, I fucked my boyfriend
over royally. Or so he says now. Now that we’re arguing in his living room.
Nobody here to hear us anyway. Zac’s gone dirt biking with his friends. Diana
and Walker took the younger kids out for luggage, because some of their things
got damaged by the last airline and the boys have to go to New York next week.
Taylor’s here, yeah, but he’s in the den with today’s whore. Or maybe they’re
in the pool. But it doesn’t matter, because Taylor’s screwing her so neither
one of them are paying any attention to me and Isaac.
“What do you mean, it’s not your fault!
Of course it is!” Isaac snarled as he glared at me, sitting on the couch, an
ugly grimace twisting his mouth.
“I didn’t do this on my own, Isaac!”
He really had some nerve. This was not just my fault… no way…
He took a deep breath, composing his
features slowly in his silence. “Alright, let me calm down. You surprised me,
ok? Just give me a sec. I’m sorry for yelling.” He opened his arms to me and
gingerly, I sat down on his lap, letting out the breath I hadn’t realized I was
holding as his arms folded around me.
“We’ll be ok, right?” I asked him in a
tiny voice, thankful for his strong embrace and soft body so close to mine.
“Of course.” He kissed my shoulder
lightly, hugging me close for a moment. I leaned back against him, relieved and
let my eyes slide shut.
A high pitched shriek/laugh broke
through the now-peaceful moment and I rolled my eyes as Taylor and whomever the
slut he was with appeared at the front door. He made a big display of kissing
her and mauling her in front of the door before she walked out. But of course,
she couldn’t leave without Taylor reaching out and patting her mini-skirt clad
ass.
He closed the door with a satisfied
sigh and stretched against the wall. He straightened his shirt and then came
into the living room and plopped down on the couch beside me. “Hey, Ike, how
‘bout I grab Becca now?”
I couldn’t help but laugh at the
running gag between us. Yeah, Taylor was a bit of a player and a womanizer, but
he was Isaac’s brother and his activities were just something we’d come to
except. He joked constantly with Isaac about how he was going to steal me from
his brother etc. But it was just a joke. I knew Taylor well enough to know that
he would never touch me like that. I was his brother’s girlfriend.
“Have fun?” I asked lightly, sliding
off Isaac’s lap and letting his arm drape around my waist.
“Oh yeah!” Taylor flashed his pearly
whites at me in a broad grin, leaning back against the couch with a content
sigh. “I love girls.”
Isaac shook his head at Taylor,
getting up and pulling me to my feet. “We’re gonna go
out. Mom and Dad will be back soon Tay, so I suggest no more girls in the house
today.”
“Ya know,
sex in the car’s got to suck, Ike. Why don’t you guys just go upstairs? I
promise not to bother you.” Taylor flashed another mischievous grin before
darting away to avoid the couch cushion Isaac sent sailing at his head. It
would appear he had broken his day’s traipsing to spend the remainder of
it the basement-studio, locked up with
the panels of instruments and that voice of his. It was enough to drive the
rest of us mad, his intense passion for music a constant phoenix rising from
the asses of his promiscuous lifestyle.
“Fuck you Taylor!” Isaac shouted after
the retreating blond, shaking his head as he took my hand. He leaned over and
placed a tender kiss on my cheek before leading me outside. “You wanna just go for a walk?”
“Don’t you think we’d get mobbed
around here?”
“Yeah, true…” He sighed softly, taking
his car keys from his pocket and jingling them in the air as we walked into the
garage. “C’mon, we’ll go out to that field and talk about all of this…”
The worry came back to me as I looked
over at him now, dropping into the passenger seat of the car and leaning back.
A forced smile came to my mouth as I let him take my hand, kiss my palm and
then drive passed the outer limits of the city.
When I stepped out of the car again,
it was to the wondrous scene of wildflowers and long grass waving in the
breeze. The field was a place I had come with Isaac for years, and no one in
his family or mine knew of it. It was just somewhere for us to be alone.
Laying under the sun on a wool
blanket, Isaac raised himself on one elbow, brushing away the strands of cocoa
hair that had fallen into almond eyes. “So, do you want to tell our parents
together?”
“Isaac, I don’t think I want to tell
them yet…” I bit my lip as he waited for me to finish my thought. “I just… I
want for us to be totally ok with it before we go, ‘guess what?’ to our
parents.”
“That’s fine,” he replied smoothly, leaning
down and placing a gentle kiss on my jaw. “I won’t say anything to anybody
until you’re ready. So, when is the baby due?”
“Mid-March. They aren’t sure on a date
yet.” I grinned softly to myself, not too pleased that I had to force a grin,
but then grinning for real when a thought occurred to me. “What if the kid was
born on Taylor’s birthday? Wouldn’t that be weird?”
“As long as we don’t have a son or
daughter like Taylor, it would be ok.” He laughed wryly at the look I shot at
him, chastising him for his callus remark.
“Ike, Taylor’s not that fucked up… he
used to be a lot like you. And he’s still attractive. He can sing. He’s
talented. Yeah, he’s kinda involved in fuck up shit
right now, but he was always a good kid. Of course, if we had a son who was
seventeen and had fucked almost every whore in Tulsa, New York and LA, I think
that kid would be locked in his room until he was eighteen.”
Isaac laughed easily, toying with my
hair some more before leaning back against the blanket. He tugged my body over
his and placed tender kisses across my jaw and collarbones before letting me
lay with my head on his chest. “I love you,” he whispered quietly, stroking my
hair as he loved to do. “I’m sorry I yelled at you. It’s not your fault. We’re
not sixteen; we’re both adults.” He laughed wryly as I picked up my head and
looked at him curiously, wondering where his laughter came from.
“I guess it’s time to confirm the
rumors that I’ve got a girlfriend.”
The laughter that spilled from my
mouth was forced. I had always been uncomfortable with the idea that Isaac had
to hide me. We had been dating for over three years and we had to sneak around
town. I had to be extremely careful when I went anywhere with him. Nobody could
find out. Record company said so.
Not to mention, I had almost hoped
Isaac wouldn’t want the kid. I had wanted him to tell me to get rid of the kid.
But of course, knowing his family, that was ridiculous. Even if I had gotten
pregnant at sixteen, he would have been firmly against an abortion. But I
didn’t want a child. I wanted to be able to party through my early twenties. I
wanted to be able to party with Isaac by my side. And I sure as hell didn’t
want to try and raise a child with him gone three quarters of the year. It
wasn’t fair to me or the kid.
Yet I couldn’t tell Isaac that. It
would break his heart. I just hoped that time would cause me to become more
comfortable with the idea. I still had another two months to get rid of the
kid…
I didn’t even so much as hint that I
didn’t want this child to Isaac. Instead, I let him believe I was very much
thrilled with the thing growing inside of me. I let him wrap his arms around
me, let him kiss me and touch me in his usual gentle manner. I pretended that
nothing was wrong, that I was totally ok with everything.
But once the next week had set in, I
wasn’t just ok anymore. I was kneeling beside the toilet, letting my cheek rest
against the cool porcelain as the nausea rose and fell like the tide. Bracing
for the next bought of gagging until I threw up whatever could possibly be left
inside my stomach, I drew in a shaky breath. Thank God I lived alone, that I
had moved out. My mother would have known I was pregnant by now.
Isaac has left the day before for New
York, with Taylor gabbing excitedly about all the girls he knew in New York
City and all the great sex and drugs that waited for him there. Zac didn’t seem
to even realize that they were leaving again, as he merely sat on the steps
talking on the phone to one of his friends. Jessica was complaining about how
she was going to miss her friend’s birthday party. She was almost a teenager…
why couldn’t she just stay at May’s?
Isaac had been sweet as always,
kissing me as we sat by the pool and telling me how much he was going to miss
me, how much he loved me. It was just like all the other times he had left…
except this time he kissed my stomach and smiled before we went back to where
his parents were waiting.
First week’s over, I reminded myself,
just another week to go before he comes home…
Maybe I can just have it done while
he’s gone… tell him I miscarried. The thought popped into my head as I finally
rose from the tiles, flushing the toilet and laying back down on my bed.
No, don’t do that. It’s not fair to
him. You’re not lying to him, Rebecca, I told myself firmly as I gazed over at
the clock. Ten-thirty on a Friday… at least I don’t have to go to work. That
was a blessing. I started my sophomore year of college in the fall, and my job
was on campus. I worked in one of the cafés, waitressing.
And I just didn’t bother to work during the summer. I made enough during the
year and I wasn’t paying for school because of a full scholarship, so I was ok.
Isaac keeps saying that he was thinking that maybe we should just get a place
together anyway, so maybe I won’t have to worry about rent so much anymore.
I’ll have to take time off from
school, I realized suddenly, touching my stomach. Of course nothing showed yet,
but I knew it was there. I hadn’t needed the doctor to confirm why my usually
punctual period was late.
“I don’t want this kid,” I whispered
miserably to myself, choking on the tears that rose to sting sharply at my
eyes. “I really, really don’t.”
I was about to give in to the sorrow
that had risen, but the phone rang. I took a deep breath, snatching it up
quickly and praying it was Isaac. And thankfully, his warm voice came across
the line.
“How’s everything?” I asked softly,
twisting the blankets of my bed around my finger.
“It’s fine. You’re never going to
believe this though…”
“What?”
“Let me finish.” He laughed softly,
his voice husky as he began again, “Taylor has decided to be with one girl
only. And she lives in Connecticut.”
“You’re kidding.”
“No, he spent all last night talking
with her and I guess they’re going out after some writing seminar she’s here
for ends. You should hear him talking about her. He’s falling hard.”
“Wow…” I let my voice fade out, a
small smile coming to my lips. “He’s going to be faithful to her?”
“Yeah, so he says now. We’ll see how
things are once we get back to Tulsa and he doesn’t have her here. But get
this, he said that things are totally going to be different with her. He said
she understands him completely and that she’s perfect, blah, blah, blah. Not
one comment about her ass or her breasts yet.” Even Isaac sounded a little
amazed by his own words, and I could just see him sitting there in utter
wonder. I could also imagine all the hell that Zac and Isaac were both giving
him for his decision.
“You guys are taking him seriously?”
“For now, we’re kinda
thinking we’re not sure what to think… Taylor doesn’t have the best record as
far as being faithful to anything but Taylor,” Isaac replied wryly, then he
sighed. “But enough about my idiotic brother. How are you doing?”
“A little sick this morning,” I told
him honestly, taking the water I had on my nightstand and sipping at it to rid
my mouth of the disgusting taste. “Morning sickness. I’m sure you know what I’m
talking about with all the kids your mom’s had.”
“Yeah… but don’t worry. I’ll be home
soon and I’ll take care of you. Make you nice and comfortable…” His voice
trailed off suggestively and I had to smile. Even if I didn’t really want the
kid, I still loved Isaac and missed him desperately. And wanted him home.
“Looking forward to that.”
“Ya know, Becca, all the times I told you I was thinking about us
getting a place together… ya know, I was serious,” he
said softly, his voice dropping so that nobody around him could hear. “And I
really can’t think of a better time.” I smiled to myself. Maybe there were some
good things about all of this. “And ya know,” he
continued, his voice just as quiet, “we should probably get settled in before
you get too far into it… I don’t want you getting hurt.”
“Of course, Isaac. It wouldn’t take me
long to pack this place up. I could be out by the first of August at the
earliest.”
“That sounds great. We’ll start
looking for a place when I get home. But I’ve got to go. Zac’s bitching about
something. I love you, Becca…”
“I love you too. See ya soon.” I hung up the phone and sighed, squeezing my eyes
shut as the tears welled up again. Yeah, I’d see him soon. And this pregnancy
wasn’t getting any better in my mind. Maybe I could just hint… Tell him I’m
nervous about it, unsure.
I couldn’t have been happier when he
came home though. I was waiting at the house, carefully hidden on the front
porch. As soon as he got out of the car, I was wrapped into a sweet embrace…
that was cut short quickly by Isaac. I caught the longing look that Taylor had
allowed to grace his features before a fake smile overtook his face. “What’s
wrong with Tay?”
“His girlfriend… he’s far more serious
than any of us thought.” Isaac picked his luggage up and led me to his bedroom
before indulging in me again. His kisses were absolutely delightful after
having gone nearly two weeks without them. And while his hands were heavily
callused, they were gentle and soft against my back as they snaked under my
shirt.
“God did I miss you,” I whispered
softly, the embrace he held me tightly in warm and comforting. “So, how serious
is Taylor about this mysterious girl?”
“Her name’s Morgana.
Uh… he’s already decided he’s in love with her.”
“Isaac, he barely knows her. He just
finally cares for some one and therefore thinks he’s in love,” I scoffed, then
grinned wildly as Isaac picked me up and lay me gently on his bed.
“Yeah, I know. But he does care a lot…
they spent every waking moment together… it was kinda
weird that he would get up early just to go see her… and I know he didn’t come
back until four in the morning most nights. And get this: She was raped, so
she’s still got a lot of that baggage and stuff. And Taylor doesn’t seem to
care that he isn’t going to get her in bed ! How nuts is that?”
“Maybe Taylor’s finally growing up a
little.”
“Yeah, maybe…”
I got to meet Taylor’s mysterious
girlfriend almost two weeks later. It was almost cute the way Taylor had moped
around the house, pining away for her, so to speak… but she seemed to be
perfect for him. A really nice girl and I think that he might really be serious
when he says that he loves her.
But of course, things with me and
Isaac couldn’t really be much worse…
“A decade ago, I never thought I would be,
At twenty-three, and on the verge,
Spontaneous combustion worries me,
But I guess that it comes with the territory,
An ominous landscape of never-ending calamity,
But I need you to hear, I need you to see…”
The storm was blowing in now,
raging fiercely outside the windows. Candles were lit in my room and what
should have been a romantic evening just wasn’t.
Not for me, anyway. With Morgana in town, I was sure Taylor’s candle-lit room was
quite the romantic scene.
But most certainly not for me.
Because I was arguing with my girlfriend… and this was no petty argument. No,
we couldn’t just be arguing over what movie we wanted to go see. Oh no, that
was much too simple.
No, I was arguing with the girl I loved over the child that was inside her. I was going to be twenty years
old in the fall, she was nineteen, yet she didn’t want this kid. That’s what I
was getting through all her talk of being nervous, of not being sure she was
going to be a good mother. And so I had finally accused her of that. I had
finally said, “It would seem you don’t want this kid.” And she had remained silent.
“Rebecca,” I said slowly, trying
to keep my emotions in check, “Aren’t you going to say anything?”
“I’m not going to lie to you.”
“You don’t want this kid.” A
simple statement burned through me as I looked at her. That’s what she had all
but said. She didn’t want our baby.
“Isaac, I’m so young. And you’re
never here. That’s no way to raise a child,” she whispered softly, unable to
look over at me.
“I can make the trips less
frequent, the tours shorter. You can come with me.” She only shook her head,
one hand pressed against her stomach, against the thing inside.
“No, Isaac. I’m telling you, I d’
want my child raised like that.”
“Then what are you saying! Do you want an abortion?” There, the words were
out. I knew it had sounded more like an accusation than a question, but I
didn’t care. That’s what it was anyway. An accusation…
She looked at me, remaining
silent. But in her silence, her eyes betrayed everything.
“Oh, come on!” I gaped at her,
incredulous. “No, Becca… don’t tell me…”
“The truth?” she cut in, finally
speaking in her meticulously cold voice. Her eyes were getting glassy and, not
for the first time, I saw the redness surrounding them. “Isaac, I haven’t
wanted this kid since I found out I was pregnant. I thought, ok, give it some
time, I’m just nervous. But more and more, I’ve come to realize that I just don’t want it.”
The words stung sharply. She had
given me that metaphorical slap in the face that I was so unprepared for. “You
don’t want it?”
“Don’t act so surprised Isaac.
You’re the one who seemed so confident in that statement a moment ago.” She
spoke slowly and evenly, now even refusing to look over at me. She was almost
angry, but I didn’t question it. As much as I was in shock, I didn’t want to
fight with her.
“Alright,” I began, taking a long
deep breath. I exhaled slowly, then continued, “Look, I’m not sure what I’m
thinking… There’s a lot going on in my mind. I’m sure you’re quite lost in your
own whirl of thought. Let’s just both chill for a minute, alright? I’ll tell
you I love you, say good night. Then you’ll do the same and go back home. And
we’ll talk to each other in the morning, alright?” I tried to keep my voice
soft, gentle, as I spoke.
She sighed, taking the deep
breath I had requested and forcing a small smile. “I love you, Isaac.” She
stood up when I did and allowed me to kiss her softly, holding her close.
“I love you too… good night,” I
whispered softly in her ear as she pulled away from me.
“Good-night,” she replied quietly
and then she was gone. I didn’t really like the idea of her leaving in the
middle of a storm, but I wasn’t going to force her to stay. So off she went.
And I let her go, just like that.
That might have very well been the beginning of the end. But I don’t know. The
end didn’t come for some time after that.
I got up the next morning, oh-so-pleasantly
surprised to find that there was a mob of people on our lawn and a note from my
parents informing me that they went out for breakfast with anyone that was
awake. Which left me, Zac, Morgana and Taylor alone
with the mob.
“Oh, fuck me,” I muttered as I
climbed the stairs to Taylor’s room. I grabbed a nail to pop the lock that I
knew would be secured on his door and rapped softly against the wood. “Hey,
Tay, are you awake?”
There was a faint groan and then
a muffled reply of, “Yeah, I’m awake. The door’s locked though.”
“I figured it would be,” I
replied wryly, holding up the nail before sliding it into my pocket and taking
a seat at Taylor’s desk chair.
“Do you want me to leave?” Morgana asked softly as she looked over at me, her voice
hesitant.
“No,” Taylor replied for me, now
leaning down over his girlfriend. He tickled her lightly and then began to kiss
her, once twice… then he was pushed away by Morgana,
with her giving me a slightly embarrassed look. Taylor, on the other hand,
didn’t seem to care in the least. “So what’s up?” he asked smoothly, snuggling
up to his girlfriend again.
“Mom took Dad out for breakfast
with Mackie, Jess and Avie. They took Zoë with them.
Zac’s still asleep on the couch.” I grinned broadly, not able to help the amusement
that struck me when considering Zac’s behavior. “He’s freaked out by storms.
Even though we’ve lived here almost all our lives, he still hates them. Usually
sleeps on the couch downstairs because we don’t all share a room anymore,” I
explained to Morgana while Taylor laughed. When the
puzzled look left her face, she began laughing as well.
“Anyway,
I just figured I’d let you know that it’s eleven thirty and if Mom comes home
and you’re still up here she’s going to be suspicious. Oh yeah, and there’s
about thirty people on our front lawn.”
“What?”
Taylor yelped suddenly, sitting up very quickly. His sudden movement served to
put a look of alarm on his girlfriend’s face.
“Tay,
there’s about thirty people on our front lawn,” I repeated, standing up not and
going to the window. Beneath the glass, the water of the pool sparkled in the
morning sunlight.
“Mom
and Dad left with all those people out there?” Taylor asked incredulously,
gaping at me before dropping back to his pillows.
“They
weren’t standing on the fucking lawn when they left!” I snapped back, and then
I sighed. “Sorry. But I was planning on going to get Becca
and now I can’t even go get the damn mail.”
“They’re
not tearing up the lawn, are they?” he asked after a moment, now that he was contently
curled up with Morgana beneath the warmth of his
blankets.
“I
don’t think so. Should I call Blake down here?” I asked quietly, sighing as I
dropped back down to the chair I’d been sitting on earlier.
“Well,
considering I wanted to go out today considering my girlfriend that I never get
to see is only here for another two days, yes!” he said back, his voice angry
and irritable. I didn’t say anything though. I understood Taylor’s anger. I
wanted to go to Rebecca’s.
I
left him alone with Morgana and went in search of the
cordless phone. Passing Zac, who was barely awake on the couch, I located it
and went into the kitchen to call the familiar number as I took as seat at the
island. I was still sitting there when Taylor came down the stairs with a sleepy
Morgana. Still sitting there when Zac stumbled in.
Still sitting there until the damn crowd had been shooed away.
I
left as soon as I possibly could, not caring in the least that a straggling fan
might follow me to Rebecca’s and reveal her to the world. She was pale faced
and weary looking when I finally got to her apartment.
“Hey,
are you alright?” I asked quietly, gathering her into my arms and letting the
door shut behind me.
“Morning
sickness.” She smiled her melancholy little smile as I led her over to her
couch, sitting down lightly and holding her close.
I
spent the entire day with her and almost the entire night. It wasn’t fun and it
wasn’t easy. The fight became tired… And that was the sad thing. It had turned
into a fight. The decision over a child’s life had become a fight between two
people who loved each other.
When
I finally left her house, I had tears streaming down my cheeks. She had asked
me to leave, finally, telling me to get out before I said something I
regretted. Or before she said something she regretted. Just get out.
And
it hadn’t been the gentle plea that I had offered her the night before. It had
been a violent demand. And she hadn’t told me she loved me. She had just thrown
me out.
I
took a place on the couch when I finally crept back into the house after
passing the wee hours of the morning driving in aimless circles through the
streets of Tulsa. I was quite content in my vacant state of mind when I caught
sight of Morgana coming back in through the front door, alone.
“Where’d
you go?” I asked quietly, wincing at the thick, exhausted voice that spilled
forth. She looked at me with a twinge of sympathy as she took a seat beside me
on the couch.
“Buy
Taylor’s breakfast. I’m gonna surprise him. Are you
alright?” she asked softly, her beautiful face twisted with concern. .
“Yeah,
I think.” I sighed softly, the tears rising again as I looked over at her and
thought of the sweetness of her actions. Getting up early to buy Taylor,
judging by the pastry bag in her hand, his absolute favorite breakfast. Going
out in an unfamiliar town, walking around alone, just for that. “Have you ever
done something that was so great while you were going it, but then after, it
turned out to be the biggest mistake of your life?” I asked suddenly, looking
at her with an intense need to hear some one else’s voice.
And
to my gratification, she didn’t bother trying to ask me what had happened or
anything. She was quiet for a moment and then replied in a soft tone, “yes,” in
a knowing voice.
I
sighed again, knowing that my breath was ragged with the tears I fought. I
didn’t want to cry in front of her. I was sure that she had her own problems
with Taylor and didn’t need any of my bullshit as well.
“Ike,
it’s ok to cry,” she whispered quietly in my ear as she wrapped her arms around
my shoulders in a comforting hug.
“I
know.” I smiled sadly as she rose, the bag from the bakery in hand. I had a
strong feeling that my gaze at her as she left was wistful… I just wanted to
have that kind of love back. “You’d better get back to Taylor before he has an
attack thinking you’re gone,” I added after a moment, a genuine smile
stretching over my lips.
She
only shook her head ever so slightly, planting a gentle kiss on my cheek before
climbing the stairs to return to Taylor’s room, where I imagined he still slept
soundly.
I
used to have that, I thought wistfully as I sank back into my stupor. I used to
have that kind of love.
It
was just that sentiment that echoed in my mind for the rest of the day. Morgana and Taylor lounging together in the backyard,
throwing a Frisbee, leaning over to whisper softly to each other. Each was
incredibly loving to the other and I just ached looking at them. I didn’t dare
go to Rebecca’s. No, that was a wound I didn’t feel like opening to the salty
tears I could imagine just perfectly.
Taylor
had to bring her to the airport the next morning, but he didn’t return until
late in the afternoon. When asked where he’d been, he only mumbled something
about watching planes take off for a few hours in a dejected voice. Of course,
our mother was wild, telling him that he shouldn’t be hanging around such
crowded places on his own.
And
being Taylor, he made a face at her and walked away.
I
followed him to his room, glad he didn’t tell me to leave him alone. And when
he flopped back on his bed and stared up at the ceiling, he finally spoke.
“How
do you do it, Ike?” he asked quietly, not moving from his position and his eyes
unreadable as they stared vacantly at the ceiling. “How do you just leave her
like that?”
“With
a lot of heartache,” I replied in a low voice, sitting on the edge of Taylor’s
bed and watching him. “It’s not an easy thing to do.”
“I
know.” Bitterness twisted into the words as he spoke. Intense, deep bitterness.
“It’s worth it though, right? All the pain and suffering and all the bullshit…
It’s worth it just to hold her in your arms, right?” And now I knew he was
asking me, asking me to assure him that he was doing the right thing by staying
with one girl. He wanted me to assure him that it was all worth it in the end.
“Yes,
Taylor, it’s worth it,” I told him firmly, blinking away the tears that had
begun to rise in my eyes. I stood quickly. Taylor still didn’t know that I was
having problems with Rebecca. I let him tease me about her and just put on a
fake grin. If he saw through it, he never said anything.
And
just when I imagined it really couldn’t get any worse than it was, it did. Good
ol’ Murphy coming up from behind to kick me in the
ass with his laws printed on his boot, in still-wet ink.
My
life just began to spin wildly out of control and the storm was called Rebecca.
I
don’t even know how it started, But the fights we had, they just got worse and
worse. She threw things, she screamed, and cried… And it was still because she
wanted to kill our child and I didn’t see how she could want such a thing.
“Isaac,
please, listen to reason,” she begged, her voice soft for once, eerily calm.
“If I have this kid, it’s going to grow up without a father. You’ve always had
a tight-knit family. I didn’t, you know that. None of us were ever that close
and I want my children to have a close family. I don’t want to raise a child
from a suitcase!”
“Becca you, we wouldn’t have to do that-“
“Isaac,
you’re not understanding!” she shouted, the tears flowing down her cheeks again
as her hands flew up. “You will not be here for me or for-“
“Watch
it, Becca!” I cut in sharply, taking her wrists and
holding them firmly. “Taylor is on the other side of that wall. And unless you
want him to know about this, I suggest you keep your voice down.”
She
glared at me, furious that I was right and she had to listen to me. No, she
didn’t want anyone in the family to know. But then she did something that might
have well burned the last feeble bridge between us. Raising one hand, she came
down across my face hard. The dull sting that resulted didn’t register until
after she had fled the room.
“Ike?”
Taylor appeared a few minutes later, a curious look of concern on his face.
“Hey, are you ok? I heard Becca shouting.”
“We’re
just having some problems,” I replied tightly, sinking down on my bed and
praying he didn’t see the redness of the other side of my face, praying he
didn’t try and get more information out of me.
“Anything
I can do to help?” he asked quietly after a few seconds of hesitant silence. I
could almost see him bracing for a barrage of words and I found myself touched
that for once, Taylor seemed to give a shit about something besides Taylor.
“No,
thanks anyway.” I gave him the weak smile I managed to dredge up from somewhere
where a faint hint of happiness was left. I was glad when he only shot me a
sympathetic look and let the door close behind his lanky figure.
So
we fought. I fought her over and over, getting nothing for my pain but more bruises
resulting from her harsh slaps. I tried not to hit her back, I really did. I
didn’t touch her, but bruises were appearing on her arms where I had grabbed
her before I even realized it me that caused the marks.
Then
it happened. She came to the house and just told me point blank. “Alright,
Isaac,” she started in a voice that was firm and decisive. I wasn’t changing
her mind. “I’ve made a decision. And you’re not going to change my mind or stop
me. I’m not going to have this child. I’m having an abortion. The appointment
is Thursday.”
Intense
anger surged through my body as I reached out and snatched her wrists. “Who the
hell do you think you are?” I demanded suddenly, my voice roaring out of my
mouth at enormous volume.
“The
one who has this thing growing inside of me,” she snapped back bitterly,
ripping her hands out of my grasp. “The one whose body it depends on, whose
body it needs to survive right now. But I don’t want it. I don’t want it inside
me. And that’s my decision.”
She
began to walk away, running down the stairs, yet I followed her, running
quickly after her. The tears had started flowing, not caring that I wanted to
refuse them. She got to the front door and had her hand on the handle, but I
grabbed her arm and spun her around, shocked to see the tears streaming down
her face.
Zac
and Taylor were on the couch in the living room, with an absolutely great view
of us. I saw them exchanging nervous glances with each other and then they just
faded away and I begged her not to leave. Please, please don’t leave. Stay,
talk to me.
The
look of anger on her face was almost as hurtful as the slap that landed on my
face. When she hit me, I released her and she was gone like that.
She
called me Thursday morning, her voice tight and nervous. She asked me to go
with her to the clinic and I refused. No, I would not go with her to observe
the murder of our child. She hung up without another word.
She
came that afternoon, walking slowly up the sidewalk with her head bowed and her
shoulders slumped. I opened the door before she got there, glad the family was
gone. I had stayed home only because I knew she would come by.
“I
did it Isaac. It’s gone,” she whispered softly, tears rising in her eyes as her
hand fluttered over her stomach. She looked at me with a pleading gaze, her
hands hanging limply at her sides as I shut the door behind us.
“I
hope you’re happy,” I spat back, disgusted as I looked at her. I had hoped she
would come to me and say she couldn’t do it. She just couldn’t. And she wanted
the kid. She wanted us to have the kid together.
“Please
don’t do this to me. I love you Isaac…” Her eyes were sad, knowing what was
about to happen, knowing that our time together just might be up.
“Why
shouldn’t I?”
To
my surprise, her eyes hardened as she glared back at me, voice tight and even
as she spoke. I didn’t even bother to hide the shock written all over my face
as her words tumbled free.
“Dammit, Isaac. I wish you could’ve gone through everything
I’ve gone through. I’ve been to hell and back these last few days. You have no
idea what it’s like to have the feeling your life has just ended looming over
your head. You have no idea what it’s like to feel as if you’re being choked by
this thing growing inside you, that that thing is what’s killing you and all
that you’re doing is helping it. I did what I had to do Isaac. And I asked you
to come with me, to be by my side. Do you know how it feels to ask the person
you love the most in world to help you through the most painful experience
you’ve ever been through, and to have them tell you no? To sit in a cold room,
on a metal table, surrounded by strangers as a child is sucked out of you?” she
ranted, tears that were nothing short of miniature rivers pouring down her
paled cheeks. “God, Isaac, I was looking at facing the worst pain know to
mankind! You’re not the one who would have to carry this child, you’re not the
one who would have to spend morning after morning throwing all you have into
the toilet. You have no right to sit there and stare at me as if I’ve just
murdered your entire family.”
Her
fury was contagious I discovered, taking in her shaking limbs and furious eyes
and feeling the rage creep through my own body as I strove to not allow my
limbs to tremble. “I have no right! Fuck it, Rebecca. I have every right. That
kid was just as much mine as it was yours,” I screamed back, grabbing her
shoulders roughly and shaking her, trying to shake some sense into her.
“Don’t
touch me!” She threw my hands off her, taking a step back. Did she actually fear me? “And it was not just as much yours as
mine. That child was inside of me! Me!
Not you!” She was sobbing in earnest now, gasping for breath, her face shining
with the damp tears.
“Bitch,”
I spat, giving her a seething look of hatred that betrayed all the emotions
that I had strove to hide from her in the course of the last two months. I
hadn’t wanted to hurt her then, but now I felt she deserved it. After all the
pain she had put me through…
“I
love you Isaac. I love you more than anything in the world. But you’re just a
bastard. Fuck you Isaac, just fuck you. I hope to God that I never see your
face again….”
And
then there was one, I thought bitterly yanking the silver band from my middle
finger and throwing it as hard as I could into the oblivion of my empty house.
I couldn’t
help but feel guilty as my fingers hovered over the keyboard. “Enter,” it
whispered, “Send.”
I’d
written the e-mail. I’d uploaded the photo. My little testament to the love
affair of one Taylor Hanson and one Morgana Summer.
Wishing I may have spoken with Morgana herself, even
just once, before I’d made my decision, I’d started typing.
Hi. This is to you, the webmaster. I am a long-time personal friend of
Taylor. This is my confession, is you will, of what I think the fans should know.
What you print on your page is up to you, but please keep my name out of it.
I’ll give you a phone number, I’ll talk to you in person, I’ll prove what I’m
saying. But I don’t want millions of people to know my name.
To start off with, yes, Morgana is Taylor’s
girlfriend. He does his damndest to protect her from
the media. HE DOES NOT WANT HER INVOLVED IN IT! Whether you as the fans want to
believe it or not, she is totally his baby and he loves her.
I also wanted to say some things about the rumors I’ve begun to hear
circulating about Taylor’s past. Taylor is a normal teenager. Let me ask, what
have you yourself done since turning thirteen? That is my answer to the
rumors. Taylor has done things he’s not proud of. So have I. So have you.
It’s called adolescence.
This is not a confession of anybody’s sins. This is Kira,
telling what she thinks the fans should know. Publish what you will. Decide
what you will. Just remember that Taylor Hanson is nothing more than a
seventeen-year-old human.
Send.
“It’s the edge of the world and all of Western
civilization,
The sun may rise in the East,
At least it’s settled in the final location,
It’s understood that Hollywood sells Californication...
“Everybody’s
been there and I don’t mean on vacation…”
“Taylor? Taylor!” I shouted
loudly into the phone. My greeting was static and then a slight click.
(you
lose, please try again)
“Fuck,” I muttered angrily,
typing in the numbers of his cell phone again. I waited, listening to the dull
ring as it pounded in my ear. A brief flash of a voice and more static came
across the line. “Taylor!”
“Hey, Morgana.”
I heard the garbled response swirled through the static a moment later. There
was a delay apparently.
“Where are you?” I asked loudly,
trying to ignore the static. At least he could hear me through the fuzz now.
But then the static grew louder, popping and crackling once more before cutting
out.
(you
lose, please try again)
“God fucking dammit,”
I swore softly, slamming the phone down once more. Deep breath, girl. Calm
down. It’s just a phone.
But I haven’t talked to him in
three days, a little voice whined in the back of my mind, pleading with me to
pick up the phone and try again. C’mon, once more. This is day number
four.
So I punched in the numbers once again.
It was ringing now, clearly it seemed, and after ten rings, there was the click
of someone picking up on the other line and unmistakably clear silence.
“Taylor!” I cried in excitement, a grin pouncing on my face.
“Hey, sorry I can’t pick up this
damned phone right now, but I’ve got a busy life. Ya
know, and this phone’s kinda crappy. Company
equipment and all. Anyway, leave me a message and I’ll do my best to get back
to you. Later!”
My heart sank as I droned back a
quiet little message to Taylor, telling him how much I missed him and loved him
and why didn’t he return any of my calls? Oh, never mind, I understand he has a
busy life. Don’t worry about it, but please do call when you get a few.
(game
over)
* * *
“Still no luck?” Nicole asked quietly,
sticking her head into my room. I sat staring blankly at my computer screen, a
total case of paralysis confiscating my creativity.
“What? With this,”-I gestured to
my laptop with the maddening cursor blinking at me-“or with the cell-phone
games?” I offered her only my dejected smile. I had an English paper to write
and I was so lost. I was a mess without being able to talk to him. Love sucks.
You don’t mean that, I told
myself instantly driving the thought away. Not having your love with you sucks.
You just miss him.
“Either. I’ll listen,” she said,
producing a heaping bowl of ice-cream from behind her back. “Or you could just
help me eat this monster sundae.”
I couldn’t help but giggle at her
attempt to cheer me up.
Legs folded under her slim frame,
Nicole leaned against my bed and offered me one of the spoons. “He’s not
picking up his phone?”
“He picked up twice, but it got
cut out cause of the static. The third time I got his voice mail.” I let my
eyes close for a moment to block the tears that threatened to flow over my
eyes. It was so frustrating not being able to get a hold of him. And so
aggravating that when I did get him on the line, it was for nothing more
than a smidgen of his voice before losing him again.
“When was the last time you heard
from him?”
“Sunday.” Yeah, I had talked to
him Sunday for all of fifteen minutes with his promise to call me the next
night from the hotel when they got back, no matter how late. He hadn’t called
Monday night. Or Tuesday. Or Wednesday… it was nearing 5:30 Thursday evening
and still no word.
“Where is he?”
“LA,” I replied miserably,
thinking of the beautiful California beaches, the tree-lined freeways, every
palm tree in a neat little line. Beautiful, cloudless blue skies and those
beautiful girls running everywhere beneath them.
“When’s he going home?”
“Monday.”
“Well, at least you’ll be able to
talk to him then,” Nicole offered, a bright smile on her face I knew was for my
sake. She pushed the ice-cream towards me with a chiding look when I didn’t reply.
“C’mon, it’s melting and you haven’t eaten any.”
Dutifully, I scooped up the soft
ice-cream and let it slide into my mouth. The taste nearly repulsed me it was
so sweet, but I felt like indulging myself in exorbitant amounts of sugar; it
was all good.
“I probably won’t be able to talk
to him until Tuesday,” I told her after a moment of silence, scooping up more
of the melting mess. “Cause he’ll be tired from working all week and
everything. His flight doesn’t get in till late afternoon anyway. And they have
to unpack and he has all his other friends…”
“Ana, he’s always got time for
you. He makes time,” Nicole assured me, her green eyes so like my own giving me
a firm stare.
“Nic,
he hasn’t made time all week.”
“I know. I was just trying to
make you feel better.” She sighed deeply, watching as I twisted my spoon
through the soup our ice-cream had become. “Morgana,
he loves you. Like you said, he’s busy. Work, work, work.”
“I know. I miss him though. And
it hurts.” I nearly choked as I swallowed the rest of the sugary sweetness,
watching Nicole leave. That lump in my throat, it sure was a bitch. I couldn’t
talk to Taylor, that was for sure. But I could think of somebody that just
might know how I was feeling. Not to mention, I knew she could use a little
cheering up. Or if that didn’t work, misery loves company.
“Hey, Becca…
how’re you doin?” I asked quietly when the other
girl’s roughened voice came across the line.
My answer was a heavy sigh and
the sound of tears stuck deep in her throat. “It’s hard being without him,” she
whimpered back, voice barely-audible. “This is so much worse than all the times
when I didn’t see him for months when he had to work.”
“I’m sorry, Becca.
I wish there was something I could tell you to make you feel better,” I told her
gently. Her pain was making me very thankful for at least knowing that Taylor
still loved me. That we were still together. That Taylor hadn’t called me a
bitch.
“Well, honestly, you’ve done a
lot for me. It’s nice to be able to talk to someone who isn’t judging, ya know? Everybody seems to think I want to know what they
think.” I heard the hidden message in her voice, the hidden meaning… it wasn’t
just Isaac that called her a murderer. It was the people she’d had to sit by in
the clinic. Each and every one of them silently accusing her. They all knew why
she was there. They didn’t have to read her form; the hand clutching her
stomach sub-consciously screamed it out loud and clear.
“You did what was right for you,”
I replied softly, ignoring that I wasn’t exactly for the abortion in her case.
I personally thought her and Isaac would have made great parents; he loved her
enough to ensure that their child was raised properly in a loving family. But
she didn’t want my opinion.
“I know.” Good thing she was too
out of it to hear the fakeness I feared my voice revealed. I hated having to
pretend, but in this case it was best. She had gotten enough shit from enough
people. It was over; let the past lie.
She took a deep breath, voice
seemingly calm now. She was composing herself now; I could almost see her
features settling into perfect calamity. “So, how are things with you and
Taylor?”
“I haven’t really talked to him
since Sunday. And that was just a ten minute promise he’d call me the next day.
I still haven’t heard from him,” I confessed, toying with the spoon Nicole had
failed to collect. I breathed on it and stuck it to my nose, watching in
fascination as it swung back and forth before falling. It disappeared beneath
my bed and I gave up. It was a lost cause.
“Hey, lemme
tell you something that’s going to make you feel better. I hope anyway.” She
laughed wryly under her breath before she continued, “Taylor loves you more
than you know. When he promised you he would call, it was most likely a promise
that would survive if it just wasn’t a snowball in hell. They are incredibly
busy… more than I ever believed. These promo trips are nuts. I went with Isaac
once and they were running everywhere all day… but that was then…”
Her voice had begun to tremble
and she paused, taking a deep breath. When she finished her statement, it was a
faint whisper I had to strain to hear.
“Don’t let Taylor go, Morgana. Whatever you do. You’ll never know how good he is
to you until he’s gone.”
There was a faint click but not
before I heard her heart-wrenching sob careening forward.
I sighed as I replaced the phone.
I hadn’t told any of it to Taylor and I knew he was ripped inside because of
it. He had heeded my warning the afternoon in New York City not to question me
about it because I didn’t want to lie to him. But he was standoffish, not
nearly as affectionate as he normally was. When I’d come out of the shower, he
hadn’t even so much as glanced at me as I dressed. He hadn’t come to my side
when I lay down on the bed and patted the mattress… at least not without an
extended time’s worth of pleading with my eyes . But his touch had been stiff.
He lost his coldness by the time
we had to say goodbye on my door-step the next morning. But not that night.
That night he had gone to sleep with his back to me… and I think he would have
slept in the other room with Isaac and Zac if not for the fact that the former
was still hitting the bottle pretty hard.
I knew he didn’t understand why
I couldn’t tell him what I knew. But Rebecca had begged me not to say anything
to anyone, especially in Isaac’s family. And I had given her my word and I was
going to stick to it… even if it was tearing at me and Taylor.
Then again, she had told me not
to lose him. Whatever I did, don’t lose him. What if it came down to that?
Betraying her or losing Taylor?
Being a girl, I understood she
didn’t want anyone in his family to know. They would have plenty to say and she
would be pushed into a corner. She didn’t want Isaac to find out she had
confided in me, that she had told me everything she didn’t want him to tell
even his family.
But what if her secret started to
come between me and Taylor? I sighed miserably, picking up the ragged post-card
that Taylor had sent to me once he arrived in LA. My eyes traveled over the
words I knew by heart, fingers running over the smudged blue scrawl. It was
sighed with all his love. But not from Taylor; it just had one loopy T.
All because the record company
said so. No return address on anything he sent me. No return address on
anything I sent him. Shit, I had to write ‘314’ on the corner of the envelope
of anything that got sent to his house, just so that Taylor knew it wasn’t fanmail from some random teenybopper.
Flipping the thin piece of
cardboard over, I smiled my own little bittersweet smile at the Hollywood sign
in a picture taken from the reservoir. I had most likely stood right where the
photographer had. I had gone jogging there a few times, blending with the
locals as I ran, carefree in running shorts and a sports-bra, over the path
that ran along the water and through the hills.
I wondered if maybe Taylor had
stood there, in the very place I had stretched before taking off on light feet,
to gaze at the letters that stood out from the greenery of the hill in such
stark contrast.
“Yeah, well, it doesn’t matter if
he did,” I told myself, pretending I couldn’t hear the bitterness in my voice.
The cursor blinked impatiently. Fine, I give up, I thought unhappily, pulling
the warm computer onto my lap and beginning to type some mindless dribble.
There was always rewrites.
The paper was just coming off the
press, so to speak, from my little portable printer when the phone rang. I
stared at it dully for a moment, then snatched it up when I thought of how it
just might be Taylor.
“Hey, babe.” His voice, sure
enough, spilled out of the phone, crystal clear and radiant. “And how are you
this evening?”
I laughed, delighted to hear from
him. “I’m doing just wonderful now that I can talk to you.”
“Yeah, I’m sorry about the phone
earlier. We were up in the hills doing some photos and stuff at the reservoir.
They’ve got the most amazing views of the valley… I mean without the smog and
everything,” he explained, his voice light and teasing. A light chill ran down
my spine as the postcard flashed through my mind. Coincidence.
I could almost hear him frown as
he said the next sentence. “Everyone kept getting pissed at me about the phone.
They made me shut it off after the second call.”
“Yeah, I know. I used to go
jogging up there,” I said, carefully avoiding his comment. I didn’t really want
to hear it. Just another reminder that Taylor belonged to that ghastly sigh
breaking the pristine green of the hills.
“When were you up there?”
“My aunt lives in the hills. I
was there last summer for a month, helping her move in from her old house. She
lives on Sunset Drive,” I explained, closing my eyes and picturing the elegant
house. I hadn’t wanted to come home. Neither had Nicole. As far as we were
concerned, we could stay there. Forever and ever, Amen.
“Really.” His tone became
plotting and playful. “When do you think you’re going to visit her again?”
“Taylor, are you being
devious?”-picture that sly little grin of his-“I sense you plotting.”
“Well, we are in Los Angeles a
lot. We have to come back here in November and won’t be back in Tulsa until
mid-January, at least. And ya know, Christmas with
your aunt, well, you miss her and it’s so cold in Connecticut. Why don’t you
and Nic and your mother visit her for the holidays?”
Taylor, Taylor, I thought with a
grin. I can just hear the wheels spinning in your mind.
“I could tell my mother that your
family will be out there and she could meet everyone… I mean, the three of us
here are pretty close and she’s kinda miffed that she
hasn’t been able to meet your parents or the rest of your family. She’s the
type that would have you here for Sunday dinner if you lived in state.”
“My mother’s the same way. She’d
probably jump at the opportunity to meet your family,” Taylor replied easily,
his gentle laughter music to my ears.
“Well, that’s a good thing!”
“Yeah, so have you asked your
mother about the Halloween thing yet? Cause you’d be missing three days of
class…”
“Two,” I corrected.
“Oh yeah, you wouldn’t leave
until after classes on Thursday.” He sounded slightly disappointed, but I
didn’t bother to mention anything. It wasn’t worth it. And besides, I had
always told him that I wouldn’t be able to get out of three days of school.
“Yeah.”
“Well, have you asked?”
“Yeah, actually, I asked the
other day. She said it was cool. We even booked the flight,” I told him slyly,
grinning. Yep, I had a few tricks up my sleeve too.
“That’s great, Ana!” He sounded
surprised, yet genuinely happy. “Ya know, I hope you
were serious about your costume.”
“Like I said, when it’s just us.
I don’t think you’d want me walking around-“
“No! I want you all to myself,”
he whispered quietly into the phone, the husky voice I loved filled with
yearning. His voice dropped even lower as he murmured the rest of his thoughts,
“I was serious about what I said.”
I laughed quietly, ignoring the
ache I was beginning to feel for his arms around me. For all things Taylor,
from the faint smell of his cologne mixed with some sort of herbal shampoo, to
just the way his skin felt under my fingers… “But Tay, I think you’re much more
educated on that subject than I am.”
“I suppose. But I want to see you
all… dressed up,” he said after a slight pause. I could hear Zac gabbing to his
mother about something in the background. Suppressed laughter at Taylor’s
obvious attempt to hide what he was talking about.
“Alright, I’ll ‘dress up’ for
you, but I’m not playing the part! I’m not… I don’t know enough to make that
interesting for you.”
“I guess I’ll have to show you,”
he said in a soft voice, the suggestive undertones blatantly clear. You’re a
tricky one Taylor. “Would that be ok?”
“That would be more than ok,” I
purred back softly, letting my tone fall into a voice that I knew Taylor found
to be incredibly sexy. I could almost see him fidgeting anxiously in his seat
as he spoke, a satisfied smirk stretching over his mouth.
“So can I have your flight
information?” he asked next, voice returning to its usual tones. Probably had
to get off the phone soon. Something else more important.
“Yeah… I’m flying on American. I
get in at… six on Thursday night at Tulsa International. Please tell me there
aren’t going to be anymore incidents of you jumping out at me,” I begged with a
faint laugh. I clearly remembered the last time I had flown to Tulsa… Taylor
hiding on me and then popping out and scaring the living shit out of me.
“No, I won’t do that. I’ll be
waiting for you.” He sighed heavily and I heard the faint tap of a pen being
put down. “I hate to do this, Morgana, but-“
“You’ve got to go,” I finished
with my own disappointed sigh. “Alright, baby, I love you.”
“I love you too, Ana. I miss you…
so, October 28th is the day?”
“Yep.”
“Ok, bye, babe,” he whispered and
then he was gone. Another case of Californication, I
thought wryly. The sad thing was, who was inflicted with it? Taylor? Me? Or
both of us?
“I
see your picture, I smell your skin,
On the empty pillow next to mine,
You
have only been gone ten days,
But
already I am wasting away,
I
know I’ll see you again…
“But
I need you to know I care and I miss you…”
Autumn was finally
starting to set in. The days were getting a bit shorter, the temperatures
cooler. All of my friends were back in classes, whether at Union High or at the
local colleges. Then there was me, my classroom my own bedroom, my teacher having
to frequently leave me alone. Pity, really.
But it was four
o’clock in the afternoon. Class was out for the day and I was going to meet a
friend at one of the cafés in downtown Tulsa.
Kira had
known me since I was really young. We had once played on a co-ed soccer team
and had been good friends since. No romantic feelings between us either. A rare
thing, yes I know. But I had been there for her through all her guy troubles…
and she had always listened when I spoke. Good or bad.
She was proud of me
now, happy I finally was with only one girl. I think she was happy I had
someone who loved me. Happy I had found some joy.
I met her inside the
bustling café, placing my usual order of French vanilla coffee, black. She only
shook her head, requesting her normal of hot chocolate and one of the big
chocolate chip cookies the place sold for a dollar.
“So how’s everything
with you?” she asked, shrugging off her loose jacket. Green eyes that reminded
me so much of Morgana’s stared back, rimmed in faint
brown liner. Now that didn’t remind me of the black loops that always encircled
my girlfriend’s eyes.
“I just want it to be
Halloween.”
“Your party… and your
girlfriend’s coming here.” She grinned knowingly at me, smiling oh-so
graciously at the… well, I’m not much of
a judge of guys or anything, but… rather attractive waiter depositing our
drinks and her giant cookie.
“Yep, Morgana’s going to be here in,” I paused to look at my
watch, “sixteen days.”
“That’s great Taylor.
I really have to confess I’m curious to meet this girl. I mean, she’s changed
you so much, and for so much better. You really are more pleasant to be
around,” she confided, giving me a teasing grin when I looked up at her in
complete and total shock. Well, mock-shock.
“I am happier,”
I agreed, folding my long fingers around the warmth of the ceramic cup and
letting the enjoyable scented steam rise to warm my face. “You’ll like her.”
“I don’t doubt it. And
I won’t ask any questions when you disappear early from your own party.” She
raised her eyebrows at me, a glimmer of jest hidden in emerald eyes.
“Kira!”
I tried to look angry at her, but the sly grin came back as I sighed. Another
sip of my coffee and then I allowed myself to continue speaking. “Nah, she
comes in Thursday, so we’ve got that night and Friday. We’ll be able to hold
off until midnight.”
“Mid-night? You think
the party’s going to end by midnight?” She laughed wildly at me, her pieces of
cookie flying to the ground. She composed herself after a moment and stared
across the table with twinkling eyes. “Oh, yeah right!”
“No!” I sighed,
laughing at the look on her face. “We’re just going to say that no couples can
leave the group until midnight, at which point I will be relinquishing the
hosting responsibilities to Ike and Zac. It’s gonna
be the three of us until then.” I laughed at the look that came over her face
as I continued talking. “Jeeze, did you really think
a Hanson party would end before midnight? We’ve got the house for the night!”
“Well!” She stuck her
tongue out at me before continuing to nibble on her cookie. “How the hell am I
supposed to know? Ugh. So what’re you going to be?”
“I’m not sure. Got any
ideas?” I looked at her hopefully, hoping that she could come up with something
interesting. She always had kick-ass Halloween costumes. And she had, on
occasion, helped me find something decent.
“Hmm… didn’t you tell
me that Morgana is kinda
Goth?”
“Yep.”
“Well, that’s it. Go
totally Goth-ed out that night. Let her put on the makeup for you. It’ll be
fun… I did it one year with a guy I was dating. I think that was the year you
guys were playing that concert in Chicago though, so you weren’t here.” She
shrugged, purposefully letting the whipped cream on top of her drink touch the
tip of her nose before licking it off in a display of her unusual talent.
I had to grin before I
replied. Over eleven years of friendship, and I was still amused by her tricks.
“That actually sounds interesting. What’s that store downtown?”
“You don’t even really
need to buy anything. Wear your leather pants and swipe one of Tom’s old Slayer
or Nine Inch Nails T-shirts or something. Then again, you would have to buy the
jewelry.” I knew she was thinking when she paused and studied me with her
careful gaze, mind whirling. “Then again, if you asked her, she probably has
some things you could borrow. You two can put this together yourselves… yeah, I
think it would work. And that cross you always wear now would fit in nicely
too.”
“It’s her cross,” I
replied, picking up the delicate silver and toying with it. I let it fall back
to my shirt and leaned back in the wooden chair, tipping it back on the two
back legs.
Kira
grinned, finishing off her hot chocolate and dusting her hands. My coffee cup,
long empty, sat on the glass table-top before me. “Well, Taylor, I’ve got to
get going. I have a few papers I have to write… they’re not due until the first
week of November, but I want to have them done pre-party.” She slapped some
cash down on the table to join the bills I had already tossed into a small pile
and let me accompany her to her car.
“I really am happy for
you Taylor. I always wanted you to settle down with one girl. It’s great that
you’ve fallen in love with her,” Kira told me gently
as she folded me into her customary parting hug. She slid into her car and
waved at me. “I’ll talk to you next week!” she called before her stereo drowned
out her voice.
* * *
The day had arrived.
It was Thursday, the 28th of October, and I was in the airport. Of
course, I was nervous as hell. Tugging anxiously at the bucket hat my mom had
shoved down over my head as I walked out the door. Playing with my coal
sunglasses and trying to get my jacket to settle more comfortably over my body.
So I didn’t really
look like myself… but there were fans who had found me before when I had tried
to hide my identity. They said they would know me anywhere. I had a distinctive
way of standing. I had a fucking aura.
The thought came to
mind as I noticed a teenage girl, bad Britney Spears imitation, watching me
with wide eyes. Apparently she was having some suspicions about the lanky
figure sprawled against the wall in a Tulsa airport. Quickly I stood up
straight and walked over to the windows, praying she wouldn’t follow.
“Dammit,”
I swore softly, forcing myself to stand rigidly at the window, not let my body
relax into its usual lounging position. “C’mon, plane, I wanna
get outta here,” I muttered impatiently, staring out
to the runway. I had watched several American planes go by without taxiing up
to the gate I was standing by. Now there was another one coming closer.
“C’mon, c’mon,” I
mumbled under my breath, squinting at the plane with its bright red and blue
paint splayed over the tail. Thank you, God.
I watched the flow of
people begin to trickle out from the dim tunnel that led to the plane. Elderly
business men with the buttons of their white shirts stretching against the
rolls that just weren’t mean to be held by that size clothing. Blue hairs
crawling along at a snail’s pace with their grandchildren hanging at random
intervals off numerous folds of flesh.
With an aggravated
look on her face, I discovered Morgana stuck behind a
group of said women. She crept along behind, a miserable gaze tracing the
old-lady throng.
“Morgana!”
I called, waving at her as she got out enough to turn away from the people. A
smile burst into her eyes as she walked over, setting her bag down as I wrapped
her into a warm hug. “Missed you,” I whispered softly in her ear as she pulled
back, picking up the small suitcase she had with her.
“This it?” I asked as
I took the bag from her, ignoring her protests that she didn’t mind carrying
it.
“Yeah, I’m only here
until Monday.” She flashed me a cute little smile, leaning slightly against me
as we cleared the masses of screaming brats and their even worse mothers.
And you thought that
it was all the kids.
“How was your flight?”
I asked, taking in her exhausted eyes, faintly mused hair. She looked up, a
barrage of words building behind annoyed eyes.
“Kids bitching at the
top of their lungs the entire way here. And their mothers thinking it’s cute.
‘Look, he’s talking!’ Yeah, I’ll make
him talk alright.” She gave me a weary smile as we stopped at the car, the top
now up against the cool air of the evening.
“Well,” I said
lightly, taking her bag from her and placing it in the backseat, “you’re here
now and I’m going to take care of you tonight.”
When our lips met, her
mouth tasted pleasantly of some sort of chocolate, bitter yet sweet at the same
time. That’s right, I thought dimly, she likes dark chocolate.
She pulled her mouth
back from mine, taking off my sunglasses and then the ridiculous hat, placing
both on the hood of the car. Her eyes bore into mine with a love-thickened gaze
before laying her head against my chest, tightening her grasp on my waist.
I sighed, kissing her
forehead lightly and squeezing my arms around her. “C’mon, Ana, we can do this
at my place.”
“True.” A bright laugh
spilled through the car as we left the parking lot of the airport and started
turning through the city streets I’d grown up in.
“I can’t believe
that’s all you brought with you,” I told her again, gesturing to the bag that
was on the floor in the backseat. She had her backpack with her too, but still…
“Tay, I needed clothes
for tomorrow, Saturday, Sunday and Monday. That’s really not a lot. My costume
took up the most space,” she informed me, another cheerful laugh escaping her
lips. She leaned over and kissed my cheek softly, moving closer to my mouth
until I pushed her away, laughing.
“Ana, I missed you
too. But I need to drive this car. I’m afraid you doing that makes it very hard
to do so,” I admonished with a teasing smirk.
“Very hard, eh?” Her
gaze was all but innocent as she stared back at me, her hands fluttering
through the air. “I make it hard?”
“Extremely.”
“Really…” She smiled
mischievously, leaning against the door and letting her long legs stretch out
so I had a nice view of her smooth skin. The short skirt she wore made it all
that much better.
It was a very good
thing I lived all of fifteen minutes from the airport.
Entering the house, I
held her suitcase, backpack over her shoulders. Up the stairs, into my
room. Door closed and her stuff on the
ground. Then knowing nothing more than her mouth and soft hands.
A content sigh drifted
over the air as I lay back against my pillows nearly half an hour later. My
shirt was left un-buttoned, with Morgana dropping
gentle kisses over my chest and stomach, legs entwined with mine. Her hair was
down, brushing softly against my skin every time she moved to kiss me again.
Silky soft ringlets bound with the enchanting spirit of the faeries.
She came to a rest on
my neck for a moment, cheek pressed to my shoulder. The delicious warmth her
breath gave to my skin produced another delighted sigh as I snuggled closer to
her.
“So, what’re you going
to be Saturday?” I asked quietly, one hand sliding up the back of her shirt. I
pulled her closer before starting to massage her back with piano-strengthened
hands.
“You’ll see on
Saturday,” she replied, smiling as I kissed her jaw, then her neck, then her
exposed collarbones.
“Aw, Ana, c’mon. You
know what I’m gonna be,” I pleaded lightly, turning
puppy eyes to her I knew she found incredibly hard to refuse. And sure enough,
her eyes avoided mine as she refused once more.
“You’ll see,” she
assured me over and over. Her laughter spilled over the two of us as she picked
her head up. “I love you,” she whispered after a moment of musing silence.
Fingers reached out to comb my disheveled bangs as the other hand eased my
shirt off of one shoulder. Her attention went to administering her soft kisses
while I relaxed back into the pillows again.
“I love you too,” I
murmured quietly, running my fingers through her hair, her other hand sliding
the shirt off my body completely, lips going to trace the nape of my neck.
Relaxed and snug in my girlfriend’s arms, I let myself be carried away on a pillowy cloud of luxury.
“Taylor!” My younger
sister Jessica’s voice, muffled through the door, broke through my content
state as she pounded on the wooden door. “Taylor!”
“What Jess?” I called
back, sighing in disappointment when Morgana returned
to an innocent position, resting her cheek against my shoulder. One hand lazily
traced patterns over my stomach while my sister entered with a little grin on
her face.
“I know what you’re
doing up here, Tay!” she accused in a teasing, sing-song voice. She smiled with
satisfaction as I rolled my eyes at her, patiently asking what she wanted.
“Mom said to go tell
the two lovebirds upstairs that it’s dinnertime.” That said, she skipped out of
the room, blond ponytail bouncing along with each giddy step.
I groaned as I sat up,
throwing on the tank–top I had originally been wearing under my shirt. I didn’t
bother with a brush, combing my long fingers through my hair. Stood and
stretched. Morgana only shook her head, running a
comb through the luxurious locks toppling in soft coils from her head.
I caught her hand as
she started to walk out of the room, folding her into a tight embrace for a
moment to receive one more sweet kiss before I released her.
“You’re a naughty
boy,” she whispered in my ear, tongue flickering out for a moment. Her hand
swatted my ass right before we descended the stairs, eyes flashing in mischief.
“Just how you like
me,” I retorted with a playful grin and a quick nip at her throat prior to my
mother stepping out of the dining room two seconds later.
“There you are! I sent
Jess up five minutes ago,” she scolded lightly, hands on her hips in that
oh-so-familiar pose.
“I had to piss Mom. Sorry,”
I replied, giving her a pleading smile. I wasn’t necessarily the favorite
child, that’d be Isaac, but I was still a good kid in her eyes so I got away
with a lot.
She only rolled her
eyes and ushered us both into the dining room, which was, as usual, set for the
nine members of our family, and, on this night, Morgana
as well.
She sat down
gracefully in what had become her seat at the table; between me and Isaac and
across from Zac. And as usual, she ate mostly just the salad that my mother
made sure to have with every meal. It was impossible to really get her to eat
anything else, especially with what usually graced the table at the Hanson
home.
But it didn’t mean
anything. She came from a health-food family, so to speak. Didn’t eat a lot of
fatty foods. Didn’t eat a lot of meat. Didn’t really eat a lot, period.
Thankfully, it had
only taken my explaining that to my mother so she was no longer offended by Morgana not eating a lot. Sure, she picked at the
vegetables and meats my father usually grilled… but she wasn’t trying to be
rude. She just didn’t eat that much.
And tonight was no
exception. As my family, myself included, chowed down
on the steaks, fresh meat from a friend of the family, and piled mashed
potatoes, creamy with loads of butter, onto our plates, she picked. But she was
lively in talking to Zac about the latest paintball match with his friends. She
gabbed freely with Isaac about the few topics that totally avoided the Rebecca
situation. She asked about the party, questioning details about the house I had
refused to reveal, a triumphant grin thrown in my direction.
My parents love her, I
thought happily, taking in my mother’s pleased grin.
It was all good. I had
my girlfriend back at my side and nothing could take her away from me. Not even
that itching thought in the back of my mind that she was hiding something about
my brother…
“You see it’s
hard to face the addict that’s inside me,
I want to fill
my glass up with you constantly,
I’ve been here
before,
But I’ve never
felt this sure…”
“Taylor!” I admonished with a
playful tap on his cheek when he burst out laughing again. “C’mon! You’ve done
this for years! Why is it so difficult all of a sudden?”
“Because you’re so cute,” he
replied with a sly grin, arms folding around my waist. Beautiful blue eyes
half-rimmed in charcoal eyeliner gazed back at me with a look that just pled
for forgiveness.
“Well, sit still! Or you’re going
to have a big mess on your face!” I couldn’t help but burst into laughter as he
forced himself to sit perfectly motionless. He looked so cute with his eyes
turned upward and a faint grin tugging at his mouth.
“Ana! C’mon, I’m trying!” He
looked back at me, a chiding glance, before returning his eyes to their
sky-ward gaze. Shaking my head, I slid my legs back down onto his lap, easily
straddling his body as I leaned forward to apply the make-up for his costume. A
costume I had been delighted to hear about.
Surprisingly, he sat still for
the remainder of the time, letting me carefully apply the charcoal liner and
dusting of cinder colored eye shadow. The eye make-up went along with the black
nail polish I had convinced Taylor to allow me to spread on short, gnawed
nails.
I was dying to see him all decked
out in the outfit. But I was going to have to wait till I saw him at the house.
I was only applying the make-up for him before I went to Rebecca’s to get ready
with her.
That’s right, Rebecca. I had
convinced Taylor to invite her, hoping that maybe getting her and Isaac
together would help them to just get over the past. I knew she still loved him,
even after her hateful good-bye, and judging from the state Isaac was in, he
missed her. Maybe if he would just stop fighting the fact that he loved her, it
would turn out alright.
Not that it had been easy getting
Rebecca to go. She had initially agreed, then backed out yesterday. So Taylor
and I had accosted her and explained it was only logical she went. We had
already planned for her being there. She had already purchased a costume.
Everything was set… it would be a waste for her not to go.
Now I stood, gathering up my bag
that contained my costume for the evening, as well as the extra little treat
for Taylor once the clock struck midnight.
“I don’t want you to leave,”
Taylor pouted softly as we both stood, him wrapping his arms around me. He
settled his chin in the hollow of my shoulder and breathed deeply, hands
wandering up the back of my shirt and caressing the soft skin he discovered.
“Tay,” I said gently,
disentangling myself from his tight grip, “You’ll see me in two hours. I
promise. I’ll be there to help you light the candles and everything.” I kissed
his cheek lightly, but couldn’t escape without receiving his breath stealing
kiss. “Bye Tay!” I called over my shoulder as I descended the stairs and ran out
to the street where Rebecca was waiting. She didn’t want to run into Isaac in
the house.
“Have trouble getting away?” she
asked with a twinge of annoyance behind her joking voice.
“Yeah… Taylor’s… Taylor.” I
laughed wryly, surprised as I realized that it only had taken us three or four
minutes to reach Rebecca’s. “Jeeze, if you told me it
was this short, I could have walked.”
“Nah, I don’t mind. Besides, I
don’t think Taylor would like you walking around on Halloween all by your
lonesome.” She gave me a pointed look as we entered her apartment complex,
taking the stairs to the second floor. We entered a festively decorated room
once she opened the door, black candles spread throughout. Hanging from a
potted tree in one corner, she had strung miniature brooms with orange and
black ribbons. But the real shock was the pentacle wreath showing on the back
of her door once it was shut.
“Becca,
what’s that?” I asked, pointing at the wreath that was strung through with
orange feathers.
“I think you know.” Her gaze
twinkled with mischief as I gaped at her. “You’re not the only witch the Hanson
family has been involved with.”
“I never knew you were a witch!”
I exclaimed in wonder, gazing at her as I toyed with the pentacle around my
neck. I always wore it; didn’t take it off. Ever.
“Surprise!” She grinned broadly,
showing me a small tattoo on her back of a flaming pentacle. Then she laughed
lightly and took my bag from me. “Anything in here I shouldn’t see?”
“Not if you don’t mind seeing the
little something that’s in there for Taylor later.”
She raised an eyebrow at me,
slowly un-zipping my backpack. “I take it Taylor is very happy to have his
favorite activity back.”
“I’d say.” I sighed softly,
shrugging off the shirt I was wearing as Rebecca started to remove the
different pieces of clothing that constituted my costume. “Boy’s got energy.”
I had decided on being my
namesake. And in order to do the queen justice, I was determined to go all out.
That meant right down to the breath-stealing corset.
“You really do have a nice body,”
Rebecca commented as I removed my bra and slid it on.
“Thanks. Taylor lets me know
often.” I laughed with a devious little thought in the back of my mind.
“Although not necessarily with words.”
“I got ya.”
Rebecca giggled lightly, then she sighed, taking the strings for the corset
into her hands. “I can’t believe you’re doing this. This is going to kill and I
must confess, I’m apologizing now for the pain I’m about to cause.”
“Ah, don’t worry about it,” I
assured her, gripping the doorframe to her kitchen as she laced the first set
of holes. And it wasn’t so bad until she got halfway up the back of it. I
couldn’t hold back a sharp gasp as she gave it a final tug and tied off the
top.
“Well, I think you’ve achieved
the cleavage,” she told me with a little laugh, pulling me over to the mirror
to show me the ample flesh that rose above the neckline of the corset. And my
even tinier than usual waist. “Where’d you get this thing anyway? It’s really
nice!”
“I know. It’s got whalebone in
it. It was my grandmother’s and she said I was more than welcome to it. Not
like she would be wearing it again, ya know?” I
grinned brightly as Rebecca handed me the velvet dress, commenting on the rich
burgundy fabric, set off by gold designs printed on the insert that ran from
the bodice and then flared to the folds of fabric that swirled around my legs.
The gown was off-the-shoulder, with sleeves that billowed out from my elbows in
a soft, flowing cut.
“Wow, are these real?” Rebecca
gasped, pulling out the jewelry I had brought along with the costume.
“The stuff in cases,” I replied
absently, tugging the dress a little lower to show off my pale breasts. Funny,
I thought lightly, looking into the glass, I look almost like I’m made of
porcelain.
“Wow!” Rebecca’s eyes widened as
she opened the first gray velvet box to reveal a glittering diamond ring. “Your
grandmother’s?”
“Yep. Any of the jewels in cases
are. The costume jewelry I picked up at Clair’s before I left Connecticut.” I
took the ring from her and slid it onto my right ring finger, captivated as it
took in reflected the light brilliantly. I searched for a brief moment through
the junk jewelry before locating the black velvet case that was rather worn to
reveal the necklace inside.
The pendant dangled from a long
gold chain that was delicate as the girl it was to be placed on. But the
pendant itself was a tremendous emerald a little larger than a quarter, set in
a glittering webbing of gold.
“How long has your family had
this?” Rebecca asked softly as she clasped it behind my neck, admiring the
dazzling display of color it put out from the dim lighting in the room.
“Uh… a long time?” I shrugged,
picking it up and watching as it caught the light. “The Middle Ages I think.”
“Wow… it’s going to look really pretty
in the candles tonight.” Rebecca shook her head as we began sifting through the
other jewelry. “It’s a shame you have to put such beautiful jewels with this
stuff.”
“I know. But my mother wasn’t too
thrilled I even took this.”
“Hey, wait a sec.” She dashed
into her room and returned with a few golden rings that sparkled with
gemstones. “If you can use any of these, by all means…”
“Becca…”
I looked at her, hesitating before touching the jewelry. “I don’t know…”
“No, I insist. I would hate to
see plastic junk with that emerald.” Rebecca gave me a pleading look. She put
the rings down on the table and started to sift through them, looking for red
or green stones. And when we were finished, I had to admit that her jewelry
made everything look a lot nicer than the cheap junk I had.
“You want me to wind that
pentacle through your hair? The silver will catch the light,” Rebecca offered,
knowing that I didn’t really want to part with the necklace. I nodded, grateful
that she had come up with a suggestion I could use.
Almost a full hour later, Rebecca
stopped fussing over me. First she had to do my hair. And it had to be
absolutely perfect. It had to be up to show off my bisque shoulders, my smooth
skin. And then there was the make-up, where nothing short of flawlessness would
be accepted.
“Wow,” I whispered softly when I
gazed into the mirror. I really did look like a terra cotta doll now. With soft
make-up and smoldering, sultry eyes I was the delicate princess Taylor treated
me as.
“You look amazing,” Rebecca
agreed, running her fingers through her hair. “I feel so plain in this.” She
gestured to her simple witch costume of a flowing black dress and deep purple
cape.
“Becca,
I’m sure Isaac will think you’re absolutely beautiful.” I ignored the look she
gave for the comment, ushering her into a chair and whipping out the make-up
she had asked me to bring. She wanted dark make-up, something dramatic. And I
wore my make-up that way a lot.
“You’ve got great eyes,” I told
her as I swept the soft brushes over her skin. Her rich almond eyes snapped
open quickly as she gave me a skeptical look. “What? You do!” I insisted,
ignoring how she rolled her eyes at me. She only sighed, then relaxed so I
could finish the make-up. Interesting beginning to an interesting night…
* * *
“Oh, my God, Morgana!”
Taylor gasped as his eyes landed on me. “You look so amazingly beautiful!” His
eyes flashed at me admiringly, wandering over my bare shoulders and hesitating
on the plunging neckline of the dress. Strong arms encircled me in a tight hug,
hands wandering over the tiny waist accentuated by the dress.
I laughed lightly as he pulled
away, his tongue running over his lips appreciatively as he shoved his hands
into his back pockets. “Well, what’d you think? I do ok?” he questioned
anxiously, letting me admire his tight leather pants and worn Nine Inch Nails
T-shirt. Thankfully, he hadn’t messed up the make-up I had so painstakingly
applied, and he had gotten his hair right. It was messy and filled with mousse
to get it to hang in his eyes in that sexy way I loved.
On his feet, he wore his own
chunky black Doc Martins. But the strangest thing to see was the collar around
his throat, spikes and all. He had all kinds of plastic and junk jewelry around
his wrists.
He looked like Trent.
Trent was one extremely hot
teenager.
“You did way more than ok,” I
assured him, looking around for a moment. We were alone. “C’mere.”
I motioned for him to come closer and didn’t hesitate to wrap my arms around
him and give him the most passionate kiss I could muster up.
“What did I do to deserve that?”
he asked quietly, laughing as he wiped lipstick from his mouth. His thumb
trailed along my lips to remove the smudges of color from my skin.
“You’re Taylor.” I offered a
bright and cheerful smile as I heard voices approaching, taking the lighter
from his fingers and spinning around to see Isaac and Zac coming through the
front door.
“Got lighters?” Taylor asked his
brothers as I spun and began to go from candle to candle along the floor. Walls
scones, pillars on shelves, table displays, all needed to be lit.
“Yep!” Zac replied cheerfully,
going to the ladder in the center of the room to light the candles in the
chandelier that hung in the center of the hall.
“Ana?” Rebecca’s tentative voice
called lightly from the entrance. She stepped hesitantly into the room, walking
over to me. I was glad she didn’t catch the look Isaac shot at me. “Where is
everyone?”
“We had to come early to help the
guys set up,” I explained, handing her a box of long matches and pointing to
the dark hallway that ran into a living room. “Can you light all the candles in
that hall for me?”
“Yeah.” I received a weak smile
in exchange for the candles. As she walked away, I wished that at some point
during the night, she might catch the identical look of longing she just shot
at Isaac being mirrored in his own melancholy chestnut eyes.
With the five of us working, it
didn’t take long to light everything. Yes, the hallways had to be lighted with
candles, the massive living room we were going to be in, the staircase, the
upstairs hallway, the bathrooms… candles had to be placed in all the upstairs
bedrooms, and left with a box of matches.
Zac was all but bouncing off the
walls as people started to arrive, dressed brightly in costumes that ranged
from every different facet of dress. Of course, they all carried gifts for him,
only adding to his hysteria.
I was somewhat startled when
Taylor broke away from a conversation with Tom to introduce me to Kira. She had come as a fairy, right down to the sheer,
sparkling wings that fell from her shoulders. I wondered if Taylor had ever
said anything to her about my name, if the fairy costume resembled some sort of
fascination for the curious creatures.
“Ana, this is Kira.
I’ve known her since we were like three. Kira, Morgana, love of my life.” I had to smile at Taylor’s
affectionate introduction. He was sweet. But I also noted I had never heard
this girl’s name before.
Kira shook her head,
extending one delicately manicured hand to me. “Hi, I’m glad you’re here.
Taylor doesn’t shut up about you.” She grinned brightly at the embarrassed glow
that rose in Taylor’s cheeks before wandering away to talk to her other
friends.
Funny, he never mentioned you.
“Tay, I’m gonna
go find Becca. I haven’t seen her for a while,” I
whispered softly in his ear, leaving with a soft kiss on his cheek. He looked
longingly after me, then went back to his conversation with Tom.
It didn’t take long to figure out
she had taken to the front porch of the house, the swinging seat creaking
lightly as she swayed back and forth. In the faint light of the candles
streaming through the windows, the streaks of dark color stained her cheeks.
“Becca?
What’s wrong?” I asked gently, though I knew damn well what was wrong. Perhaps
Taylor and I had been wrong. Maybe getting Rebecca and Isaac together wasn’t
really a good idea.
“Do you really have to ask?” she
whispered back in a watery voice, sniffling and wiping her hands across her
cheeks. “I shouldn’t have come. I know you and Taylor are just trying to help,
but…” She shrugged, standing up. “I think I should go.”
“No, don’t leave. Stay here.
You’ve got friends here that care about you, Becca.
Fuck Isaac! So he’s not coming up to you. Why not go talk to him?” I gave her a
pointed look as I took her arm and led her gently back inside. The hall was all
but empty as the last few people arrived and were directed into the living
room.
“Morgana,
I’m not sure.” She bit her lip and stopped, an uneasy look in her eyes. “I
almost feel nauseous.”
“Wait here, ok?” I made sure I
got her promise she would stay where I’d left her before plunging back into the
crowded room. Having found Isaac, I tugged lightly on his sleeve, pulling him
aside. “Ike, c’mere,” I told him firmly, pulling him
into the corner.
He sighed, almost as if he knew
what I was about to say, and sipped lightly at his punch. “What’s up?”
“I need your help. I can’t find
Rebecca and you know this place better than I do,” I explained, starting to
walk away and tugging him along behind me.
“Wait a sec… why don’t you get
Taylor to help you?” Isaac asked suspiciously, halting in his spot. “I mean, I
can’t believe that he’s letting you out of his sight.”
“Look at Taylor,” I began,
pointing to where he was surrounded by his friends, laughing and joking with
them. Judging by the motion of his hands, he was in the middle of sharing some
idiotic story that I had already heard three times… not that I cared. His voice
was nice to listen to. “I don’t want to tear him away. And I saw you standing
over here all alone and figured you might want some company anyway.”
“I really don’t…” Isaac started
half-heartedly, but gave up as I gazed at him pleadingly. “Alright, but once we
find her, you had better not…” His voice trailed off and he sighed, seeming to
re-think his comment.
I led him into the hall, somewhat
dismayed to find Rebecca crying again. She stood beside the candles, waving her
fingers through the designs created in the display. With a forced smile, she
looked up, wiping at her tears absently. “Hi, Isaac,” she said in a choked
whisper, one hand fluttering to her throat.
“Where were you? Morgana said she couldn’t find you.” And to my surprise, it
wasn’t an accusation. It was a gentle, tender question of concern.
“Outside.”
“Rebecca-“ He stopped, running
one hand uncertainly through his hair. After a few seconds, he took a tentative
step closer to her, not seeming to notice that I was carefully slipping away.
“I…”
The last thing I saw before I
entered the room again was him merely standing before her, arms open. And her
stepping into his open arms, her tear-soaked cheek pressed to his chest. The
tender kiss he placed on her forehead as he held her close.
“I did it,” I whispered in
Taylor’s ear as I rejoined him, one arm circling his waist. He grinned
brightly, dropping a soft kiss on my mouth and returned to his conversation.
Is a gift I didn’t think could be real,
To know that you feel the same as I do,
Is a three-fold utopian dream…”
“Isaac and Rebecca seem
to be doing better,” I whispered in Morgana’s ear,
gesturing subtly to where the two were comfortably entwined in each other’s
arms. Her eyes were closed, cheek pressed to Isaac’s chest as his fingers toyed
absently with her loose hair. “You really are a witch. All kinds of magickal, I see…” I let my lips graze her ear softly,
delighted to hear her soft sigh of content.
“You just wait a
little while longer. Then you’ll see magick.” She
grinned mischievously, fingers tracing patterns over my jaw. Her lips raised to
mine slowly as we shared a lingering kiss.
“Hey, Tay, what was
that you said about couples?” Tom called suddenly, a dopey grin on his face as
he held his glass out towards me and Morgana. “That
goes for you too! I do believe it’s not yet midnight!”
“Alright, alright! Gimme a break, man… I haven’t seen her in almost two
months. Who says I have a right to be exempt?” I called out to the room,
satisfied when I was met with cheers and catcalls. Tom bowed down graciously,
his smirk giving way to defeat.
“Ok, I accept the vote
of the party. But remember this, Taylor Hanson, I know all about you!” Tom
wagged his finger at me and I couldn’t help but laugh at how ridiculous he
looked in his costume of a possessed Brittany Spears. Especially standing in
the middle of the crowd of lounging teens wagging his finger.
“Oh, and what is that
that you know?” I called back challengingly, eyeing him with a daring look.
“Hey, man, you’re my
best friend. What don’t I know?” There was a ripple of laughter through the
crowd. Even Rebecca opened her eyes to watch the exchange.
“A thing about women,”
I replied with a devious smirk. Thankfully, Morgana
cooperated as I bent to kiss her, letting the entire room cheer us on and
observe the full display.
“Oh, we all know that
you know quite enough for all of us Taylor!” Kira
shot back as I pulled away from Morgana, wiping her
lipstick from my mouth and grinning appreciatively as my friends all clapped.
“Hey, what is this?
Dig on Taylor?” I laughed anyway, but then a though occurred to me as I looked
back over at her. “But Kira, I think you know more
than any other girl here when concerned with the male population of Tulsa!”
I was satisfied when a
blush rose in her cheeks and she shook her had at me, shooting back an easy,
“Alright, Tay, I give up. You win.”
“Oh, look at that!” I
declared as the grandfather clock began to chime midnight. “I do believe the
witching hour is upon us.” I stood up, my friends smirking knowingly.
I also noticed that Morgana and I weren’t the only ones getting up.
“Hey, happy birthday,
Zac!” I called over my shoulder, casting a quick glance at my younger brother
who lay with his head in the lap of one of his girl friends who appeared to
have become more of a friend. “Fifteen was good to me.”
“So I’ve heard. I’m
sure seventeen is being pretty kind too,” Zac shot back with a grin, picking
his head up from, I think, Ali’s lap. He looked pointedly at Morgana before letting his cheek fall against her legs
again.
“Hey, watch it Zac!”
she called back, though she laughed through her words. “Happy birthday anyway,
you little pervert!”
“You know I love you,
Ana!” She only shook her head as I started to lead her to the master bedroom I
had snagged for the two of us. “Hey, Tay,” she whispered as we arrived at the
top step. She pointed down the hall where Isaac leaned against a doorframe,
running his hand down Rebecca’s cheek. I caught a flash of a pale hand on his
arm, and then the door slid shut. With him inside.
“Well, m’lady,” I whispered softly in her ear as I circled her
waist with my long arms, “I think that we need to take a hint from big
brother.” Her delicate laughter was all the encouragement I needed to scoop her
up and carry her to the end of the hall, happy that I had taken the time to
come upstairs a few minutes ago to light the candles.
I closed the door
quietly, flipping the lock before turning back to her. “Ya
know,” I began quietly, massaging her soft shoulders as she leaned back. The
emerald she wore set off her eyes beautifully, giving me once more the picture
of an enchanting beauty. “I think I want to remember how beautiful you look
right now. I want,” I paused for a moment, dropping feather-light kisses in the
hollow of her throat, “to make love to you right now in that sensual way I know
you love…”
She sighed softly as I
eased the dress down her arms, watching as the folds of fabric dropped to the
ground. I paused in un-dressing her to kiss each of her fingers in turn,
removing the jewels she wore and placing them on the table beside the lit
candles. Picked up the emerald, then decided to leave it on her. I liked the
way it made her my charmed princess. It burnt brightly in the candlelight as I
knelt down, dropping kisses across her stomach and thighs before standing
again.
The fact that she had
all but melted into my arms made it very easy to bring her into a sweet, soft
kiss. Her hands removed first the jewelry I wore, then my shirt, tossing it the
floor carelessly. I was thankful she didn’t hit the candles.
It wasn’t my shirt.
“You’re so beautiful,”
I murmured, reaching around her back and un-tying the strings of the corset.
The lacing of it came out easily once I began, giving way under my fingertips
with an ease I had never associated with the formality of the older piece of
women’s clothing. “So, so beautiful,” I repeated softly as I dropped kisses
over her shoulder, sliding the stiff corset away from her soft body and letting
it fall on top of her dress.
With her bare flesh
pressed to mine, our lips met again, my tongue melding with hers. I could feel
her hands snaking down between us, the snap of my leather pants coming un-done
with great ease in her capable hands. Stepping out of the pants and swinging
her into my arms in one fluid motion, I lay her on the bed gently before swinging
one leg on either side of her.
I always loved her
hair down, and had been slightly dismayed when I had seen it wore up earlier in
the evening. But now it tumbled down, the curls springing free from their many
bindings. I fastened her pentacle back around her neck as it fell from her
tendrils of sable silk and then let my mouth dance over the velvety skin.
Her hands wandered
through my hair as I kissed her, toyed with the faint clasp of her cross around
my neck. Ran tepid fingers over my back, up and down my spine. Made the goose
bumps only she gave me rise over flaming skin.
“Taylor,” she purred
lightly in my ear, teeth nipping at the sensitive skin before traveling back to
my mouth. Lips against lips until both of us were breathless. I laid my cheek
against her for a moment, eyes captivated by her full breasts rising and
falling with each ragged breath she drew.
I had barely gotten my
breath back, but I didn’t care as my mouth began to work down her body, sucking
lightly on her skin. Soft moans floated to my ears as I let my tongue wander
over her hardened nipples, caressing each before letting my mouth wander down
her stomach. The black panties she wore were lacy and soft as I let one hand
roam over them, her soft murmuring rising in my ears once more. Sliding one
finger on either side of the raven lace, I slid the underwear down her legs and
bit my lip as she began to massage my crotch lightly, hands tugging me back
down. The tight boxer briefs I wore were just starting to get painfully tight
when my seductress removed them.
Beneath the sheets,
our sweat mingled as did the moans that neither one of us cared to bite back.
The door was locked and I was sure that any other couple in the upstairs
bedrooms wouldn’t be bothering us.
While our pants slowed
to deep breaths, I couldn’t help but gaze at her longingly again. “So, Ana…
that promise you made the other day…” I traced a pattern over her glistening
stomach, tasting salt as I kissed her.
“Well, it may not be
exactly what you were thinking…” Her eyes sparkled at my puzzled, yet intrigued
look. “But I think you’ll like it.” She
slid out from under the sheets and went over to the bag she had asked me to
leave in our room. But of course, no peeking.
I watched as she
walked across the room, admiring her body in the candles. Soft, smooth skin
that made up her full breasts, which bounced lightly at each step she took,
curves in all the right places, I think so.
Silver sparkled in her
hands as she turned around and I grinned. Hand-cuffs.
Upon closer inspection,
I found that they were lined with soft black velvet as Morgana
climbed back into bed, the cuffs in one hand and the key in the other. One leg
on either side of my hips and she dangled them in front of my eyes. “What’d you
prefer? Me or you?”
I grinned once more,
catching her wrists and rolling so I held her beneath me, smoothly navigating
the cuffs into my possession as well as the key. They were conveniently already
opened as I slid one around each of her wrists, which I had previously held
pinned above her head. A faint click sounded as each cuff locked shut.
“You’re ok with this?”
I breathed lightly in her ear, taking one moment to consider her past and the
situation we were in.
“Completely,” she
purred back, tongue flickering out against my ear and her hips pressing up
against mine. I couldn’t help but grin wildly as I began to explore every inch
of her captive body.
* * *
“Hey, you’re awake,” I
whispered softly, stroking her forehead lightly. The emerald shone against her
bare chest in the sunlight while she stretched against the pillows. I leaned
over and deposited a soft kiss on her mouth before she opened her eyes again.
“Mm-hmm,” she muttered
softly, turning on her side and snuggling up against me. I wrapped one arm
around her gently and kissed her closed eyes, massaging one of her shoulders.
“So everything was ok
last night?”
Her eyes slid open,
bright as the emerald as she brought her mouth to mine. Her tongue was in my
mouth, caressing mine. And before I knew it, her mouth had descended down my
stomach to the very spot I had wanted it since the night I’d met her and always
never asked for.
Surprisingly, she was
good at it too. Really good…
“Does that answer
you?” she asked lightly when she finished, wiping delicately at her mouth. Her
tongue flicked out and ran over her lips as she looked at me with sultry eyes.
“Oh yeah.” I pulled
her body back down to mine, kissing her neck lightly and then letting her mouth
rest on mine once more.
The taste of myself on
her lips was something I hadn’t missed.
It was with a
regretful sigh that I pulled away from her. “We’ve got to get up… say good-bye
to everybody and all,” I explained, yet I couldn’t help but let my fingers rest
on her body.
She gave me a soft
pout, but rose anyway, pulling a simple pair of jeans and a red, well-worn
T-shirt from her bag. As she dressed, I found myself watching her once more,
watching her chest rise and fall with her breath, watch how her soft hair
tumbled over her shoulders, her beautifully muscled long legs.
I turned away from
her, pulling the clean clothes I had brought along from my backpack and getting
dressed with my back to Morgana. No sense in tempting
myself further.
She gathered up all
her things and put them back in her bag, replacing her jewels in their velvet
cases and placing a few of the rings she had worn in a small pile. I was sad to
see the emerald go. It had looked so beautiful on her…
Once we had replaced
everything in the room as we had found it, we took our bags and descended the
stairs. To my shock, we were the last ones down, and the entire crowd started
cheering as we hit the bottom step.
I only laughed
good-naturedly. My friends… had to love them.
“I’m gonna miss you guys,” I called over the crowd, leaving Morgana’s side to join Isaac and Zac where they stood.
Squeezing between them, I flopped my arms over their shoulders, grinning
broadly.
“We’re all going to
miss everyone,” Isaac echoed, looking around the room. His eyes landed on
Rebecca.
Zac jumped up on one
of the tables, looking around the room. “Alright, thank-you to everyone for the
kick ass birthday gifts… including you, Ali,” he added with a sly grin. “Tay
was right. Fifteen is already treating me very nicely. Thanks for coming all
the way out here and staying the night with us. I know I’ll be thinking of you
in Cali.”
He jumped down,
grinning as our friends applauded him and jokingly told him to just leave
already. I heard Tom’s shout, “Tay, get up there!” as I turned to go back to my
girlfriend.
“Alright!” I climbed
up on the table, a smirk coming to my mouth as the room quieted once again…
with the occasional snickers. “Ok, aside from all the teasing you have so
graciously bestowed on me”-more catcalls and whistles-“this was a kick-ass
party. It totally rocked and I’m glad that our last hurrah here involved
everyone. I’ll miss everyone. And now I’ll make Isaac get up here and y’all can
listen to him ramble on.” I jumped down, conveniently avoiding Isaac’s swipe at
my head.
“Well, I’m not
climbing up on the table, but, uh, what they said. It’s been a while since we
had everyone together and threw a decent party. And it’ll be a while before we
can do this again, cause I don’t think everyone can get out to LA.” A mild
sprinkling of laughter. “And while I’ve got everyone’s attention, I wanted to
add one thing. And perhaps here Tay’s right and I’m
rambling but I don’t care.
“Rebecca and I have
had our issues lately. I just want to say, in front of everyone, I’m sorry, Becca. I was more than wrong. People always say that you
don’t you what you have until you lose it. But I knew what I had long before I
lost it. I just hope that I haven’t lost it so completely that I don’t stand a
chance of getting it back now. I still love you.” He broke away from the crowd,
going outside. Rebecca stood motionless, a look of pure shock on her face as he
slipped away. All eyes were on her when she suddenly tore from the room, feet
tapping lightly against the hardwood floors.
“Hey, guys, one more
thing!” I called suddenly, desperate for some way to draw all the attention
away from the two people who I knew wanted anything but at that moment. All
eyes now turned to me as I climbed up on the table again. “We’re not leaving
until Tuesday night, so if anyone wants to stop by the house, we’ll be glad to
see you.”
People started to
trickle away a short while later, each one of our friends giving hugs to me and
Zac; Isaac was currently MIA. Words of encouragement and good luck in LA, ‘not
like we needed it’.
And finally, the crowd
had been reduced so that it was only me, Morgana, Zac
and Tom searching the grounds for the elusive Isaac. It was only when we
discovered his car missing, another trace of him to not be found anywhere, we
gave up and went home.
The house was empty
when we walked in, footsteps echoing through the unusual silence. A note on
that counter read that my parents had gone to my aunt’s house and taken Avie, Mackie, and Zoe with them.
Jess was at May’s house and would be home between three and five. Bring her
over to Aunt Nancy’s when she got home.
“Yeah, well fuck that.
I’m not staying out there!” I declared, shaking my head as I crumpled the note.
Watched as it sailed through the air and plopped neatly into the trash. I
turned to Morgana, drawing her into a much-welcome
kiss. “I have better things to do tonight.”
“Hello?” Tom waved his
hand abruptly in my face, a dopey grin spread over his features. “I am standing
here! Can you save the face sucking for when I leave?”
I gave a low laugh as
I turned to Tom and shook my head. Of course I didn’t mind. Morgana
wasn’t leaving for another, oh… not even twenty hours. I had no idea when the
hell I was going to see her again… but no, I didn’t mind waiting to kiss her
what just might be the last time.
Forget the diagnosis
of cynicism. This here is a kid who still has a firm grip on the most
misanthropic thing out there: reality.
November 7
I finally met her, up close and
personal. The now-infamous Morgana Summer, so much
resembling her namesake in the long folds of fabric she swam in this Halloween.
I am more convinced now than ever before that she is the reason Taylor is not
in some distant alley, pumping more heroin into veins already bordering on
collapse.
The party was just as entertaining
as I had though it would be. Through some conniving scheme or another, Morgana and Taylor managed to pull Isaac and Rebecca back
together.
I don’t even really know what I’m writing
here. Taylor’s been there for as long as I can remember. He’s always been just
Taylor. And when he went down into all of the other shit and I of him was his
tears or his stony silence.
Now enter Morgana.
What a strange friendship I’ve
cultivated. Pop-rock-star, Taylor Hanson, so often reduced to nothing more than
a heap of tears. That’s the boy I know.
But I wanted to write in here about
the Morgana encounter. For months, I’ve heard about
this girl. On and on and on… Taylor can talk for quite sometimes. I finally
meet her, in the guise of some mythical namesake, raven’s hair spilling over
her shoulder in magickal ringlets. I think Taylor’s
trapped in those curls. That girl’s got a hold over him, and I think he gives
it to her quite freely.
She was by his side the entire
night. And Taylor made no small show of wanting his solitude with her in some
upstairs bedroom. He whisked her away at the stroke of midnight, and the two
were the last people down the stairs come morning.
I wish I had something like that.
With every moment they spend
together, Taylor draws himself closer to the brink. I do believe she will be
the death of him.
“You’re cynical
and beautiful, you always make a scene,
You’re
monochrome delirious, you’re nothing that you seem,
I’m drowning in
your vanity, your laugh is a disease,
You’re dirty and
you’re sweet, you know you’re everything to me...”
It was that comfortable silence I
had grown to be so fond of. Hands on warm flesh, fingers drawing lazy patterns
in the invisible ink of imagination, a sweatshirt concealing the wandering
hands laying over my skin.
Although, it wasn’t pure silence.
In the woods, the peepers chirped away, singing their song, melancholy as it
had always seemed to me. But then again, that was in New England, where the
people were cold as their bitter winters. Strangely enough, the peepers here in
the gentle, warm night breeze of October in Oklahoma seemed to sing a song of
the friendly people and lazy days the warm air brought to mind.
Of course, that was a stereotype
the land held for me. It was enough to remember the morning I had woken up,
delighted in Taylor’s arms, only to have Isaac come in and explain that people
had promptly ignored the signs of ‘private property’. Came onto the lawn.
Decided to camp out and invite the family.
Delusional much?
But it didn’t matter now. It
didn’t matter that this was once again the last night in loving arms for
months. Didn’t matter there would be more bouts with that damned cell-phone. Or
that he would be thousands of miles, millions of people between us, millions of
people that didn’t want there to a be an ‘us’.
And yet a wry voice in the back of
my mind jeered once again: Delusional much?
No, I thought fiercely, snuggling
closer to Taylor. Taylor is very much yours. Nobody can take him away from you.
Not the screaming teenyboppers. Not the record executives and their bulging
stomachs. And that is not delusionment.
But they can try.
Tears pricked at my eyes as I
nuzzled my cheek against Taylor’s neck, squeezing my arms tighter around him. I
needed to feel that he was there, needed to know that there was flesh and blood
beneath my fingertips.
“Hey, you ok?” he asked lightly,
his own voice slightly hoarse. In the dim light of the two candles that burned
on his nightstand, brilliant blue shining lighthouses shone out at me,
beckoning me back.
“I love you,” I answered instead,
turning away from the loving eyes and back to the pleasant smelling body
beneath my cheek.
“I love you too, Ana.” He took my
chin and tipped my head back lightly. “Now,” he said in a quiet tender voice,
“why are you crying?”
That set me off. The floodgates
were open and there was no stopping the flow. I wouldn’t be looking into those
baby-blues for quite some time… not without seeing my own reflection in the
glass of my television. Wouldn’t hear that beautiful voice without detecting
the detached and cynical tones that flowed from any microphone. Would hear that
angelic voice that sang to everyone but me.
“Ana.” His voice was choked as he
stroked my back gently, bare skin slowly losing the intense warmth I knew from
Taylor. Arms tightened, just barely weaker than the strength that would cut off
my breath.
Couldn’t understand.
And that was the thing that got
me the most… he told me how much he loved me, he understood.
But I knew, I knew he didn’t
understand in quite the same way. We were on the same sea, yes, but as he
sailed along in his beautiful yacht, my sailboat tossed on waves that were
darkened in the yacht’s shadow.
Yes, he did understand the pain
of longing, the pain of not having me there. He knew the loneliness of a cool
bed, of the silence that his own breath just couldn’t pierce. But he didn’t
know the rest…
He didn’t know about staring
longingly at a television screen as he dutifully gave out hugs to girls that
squealed and cried in delight. Did he know that his arms around me brought me to tears? Did he know that the same arms surrounding me made me just as happy as all those girls?
Didn’t know about the blankness
of his features, the pain when that good ol’ question
plopped, un-checked as my own tears, onto his lap:
(Do
you have a girlfriend?)
(No,
no girlfriend. But I wouldn’t tell you if I did anyway.)
Besides, it wasn’t that he didn’t
know the pain of looking at himself. He didn’t have to see me, in all my agony
over his departure, on every TV screen in America, not in his arms. He didn’t
have to watch another man take me into his arms, let his hands sneak around to
the skin that was supposedly reserved only for Taylor.
No, Taylor didn’t have to witness
anything when he sat, desolate and choking on un-shed tears in his hotel room.
He saw a telephone, glowing green numbers and a numbed display of features.
Yeah, my name registered there and he peered at it… but that was the extent.
My image came to him in the happy
pictures he carried everywhere. It was there, in a beautiful silver frame I had
found at an antique shop in Boston shopping with him for his infamous vintage
clothing, that my smile found him. Encased in beautiful liquid moonlight, a
content smile filled with love greeted his eyes.
No cold ice-blue glaring through
a glass looking-box. No faux smile clicked off with the pressing of a plastic
button.
But it didn’t really matter, did
it? Right now I just had my loving Taylor holding me in that tender way of his,
wanting to know what caused me to drown in the saltwater pouring from a sea of
green I knew to be my eyes.
“I love you…” They were the only
words I could force through barely parted lips.
I didn’t open my eyes as the tears continued to flow, warm hands
stroking my body.
“I know, I love you too… I love
you…” Words faded into the soft voice of the peepers and I wasn't there. I
wasn’t anywhere but lost in waves of sorrow and bitterness. I wanted to
question the point of it all. I wanted to demand of Taylor why we bothered, but
it wasn’t a pain that I wanted to bring. I knew the answer that would come from
hurt eyes; we love each other, that’s why.
But I had lost the luxury of
words. No, no more words. Just silence. Silence broken only by those damned
peepers I would hear when I lay sobbing into a cold, empty pillow.
I fell asleep there, with Taylor
not knowing the cause of my tears.. Not knowing from me telling him anyway. He
knew… deep inside, in that place that only I knew him, he knew. He knew I
sobbed for the sweetness he showed me because I knew damn well I would be
separated from him in only a few short hours. Knew everything there was to know
about me…
And when I woke to his gentle
kisses along my stomach, it was all I could do not to break into tears again.
The sun was just starting to rise outside, the faint colors of dawn giving way
to the light of the morning. Another two hours before we had to leave.
He didn’t speak, even though he
knew I was awake. Instead his kisses wound up my body, passing between bare
breasts to welcome lips. I wanted to be in his arms, be held once again in his
embrace before I was away from him for endless lonely nights. I think he knew
it too, felt the heat that his soft caress generated in my body. I could
feel it in his.
Nobody was awake in the house at
that hour. They hadn’t returned until late the night before from the aunt’s
house and wouldn’t wake up for hours to come, so Taylor said. I was more than
happy to take his word for it.
But it appeared his desire for
me, for my smooth flesh, left his limbs quite quickly. He withdrew, face paling
as he cleared his throat and looked over. “I-I don’t want to remember you like
that…” Soft skin, perfume of his familiar body, the ache for him fading while I
took in the genuine look he shot me.
“I know.” I hadn’t known, but it
was a dismissal of the subject. I didn’t want Taylor upset. I just wanted him
to hold me again. That was the memory I wanted of him; being held in arms I
loved to feel around me, no matter what I was feeling on the inside. Taylor’s
touch was always welcome.
“I decided something last night.”
Simple words, but there was something lurking in his tone. A faint fear
perhaps… but what would Taylor be afraid of? Whatever he had decided, it hadn’t
shown that he was lost in thought…
“After you fell asleep… and I was
laying here… thinking. About my past and everything… I want you to know. Before
things start to turn up in our relationship. I want everything to be known to
you. Not just the bullshit I’ve given you… not that that was my intention. I… I
just can’t say certain things to you. I don’t… I’m not strong enough to do it.”
He hung his head in what appeared to be shame, long fingers twisting anxiously
with the sheets. Slowly, he looked back at me, eyes hesitant, scared. “I’ve
kept journals, diaries, whatever you want to call them. I’ve kept them since I was
eleven. Separate from anything my parents ever had us do for them. It’s all in
volumes upon volumes of books bound in red leather. Under my bed… hidden. But I
want you to take all the ones filled from that time. Read them…
“It’ll take you a while and all.
I write a lot. You don’t have to read the early ones if you don’t want. Mostly
my gibberish. But the stuff from the last two and half years… please… I want
you to know, from me. I just can’t tell
you… I need you to know though. I need-“
“Shh,”
I soothed softly, reaching for his wrist and kissing each of his fingers
slowly, gently. “I’ll read whatever you want me to. But you don’t have to do
this, Taylor.”
“But I do. I have to do it for
me. I mean, I’m not going to question if you read them or not. Just take them…
let me think you’ve read them.”
“I will read them.” It was
a firm statement, made as much with my eyes as with the gentle voice. The tears
Taylor held back, glimmering in his eyes, started to run when I engulfed him in
a gentle hug. Tender kiss against his bare shoulder. Warmth of his body with
mine. All of it so nice.
“I’m sorry.” He sniffled lightly,
drawing himself away from me. Instinctively, I tugged the sheets around myself
as he stood and slipped into clothes that had lain on his floor perhaps the
entire time I had been there. He disappeared for a moment, and then there they
were.
And when he had said volumes, he
had meant volumes. Perhaps a dozen of the leather bound books materialized on
the mattress, ‘Taylor’ embossed on the cover in an elegant gold script. Some of
them were covered in dust, but the
leather was smooth as I traced patterns in the grime.
“Baby, I can’t possibly take
these all back with me,” I told him softly as he brushed the dust bunnies from
his hair and perched on the edge of the bed.
“I know. I’ve got to find the
ones that go through… that time… five of these chronicle the time I want you to
know about. It cuts off just after I met you. I don’t want to give up the
current one. I write in it all the time.” He seemed a little confused, hesitant
again as his long fingers ran over the grimy covers, flipping to the end pages
to check the dates.
I kissed his cheek lightly,
silently leaving him to his privacy as I slid into the bathroom. Needed to
shower. Had to board a plane in a few hours. Just wouldn’t do to smell.
When I came back, dressed in
clean clothes and hair pulled back, Taylor was nowhere to be found. His bed was
made, my things placed neatly on top of the quilt, along with five of the red
books. A single sheet of stationary rested with them, which I folded neatly and
placed inside the front cover without reading. I would read it on the place.
Yeah, start reading on the plane,
I told myself as I slipped the thick volumes into my backpack. Was going to be
heavy, but what did I care? I wasn’t going anywhere but to school… and that
wonderful job of mine. What had ever possessed me to want to work was quite the
mystery. Especially why I had chosen to waitress. It made getting to Tulsa all
the more difficult. They had understood this time; probably wouldn’t next time.
But never mind any of that. Where
had Taylor gone? I had to leave in another hour. I wanted desperately to spend
that last remaining hour with him, not searching for him. Then again, I had a
very distinct feeling I knew where he was.
Nobody but me. Interesting, I
thought as a snuck through the sliding glass doors and stepped off into the
woods, careful to not be seen. How on earth has he kept this place from eight
other people?
Yet sure enough, I found him
there, in the tree, high above me. Eyes closed, I could see that even from
fifty feet below. Leaning back against the branches with face glistening; tears
again. God damned tears.
“Baby?” I called up tentatively,
waving my hands as he looked down. “Why’d you come out here?”
“I knew you’d find me.” Then he
was down a moment later, just slightly out of breath as he brushed the bark and
dirt from his old jeans and rugged T-shirt. “And I wanted to be away from all
of them.”
“Tay…” His arms surprised me in their
strength, the feeling of being crushed rising within me. Such terrible strength
I rarely felt, even though I knew it was there. Very rarely did I know the true
strength of Taylor. But I knew it now. Knew it as he held me tightly enough to
cause the breath to catch in my throat. Strangely, I relished the faint pain
his embrace unleashed … it was sick, I knew it was. I wanted him to bruise me
with his grasp, I wanted to have those bruises on my body when I went home,
just to be able to wince at the pain of them and know where they’d come from.
Very sick indeed. Couldn’t deny
that… but I had my sick moments. I had those demented thoughts from time to
time. I had an interesting mind, you know…
He realized what he was doing
quite suddenly and released me, wincing while I rubbed at my sides
thoughtlessly. “Jesus, Morgana, why didn’t you tell
me I was hurting you?”
“Because I didn’t mind. I want
you to hold me,” I replied stupidly, shrugging. Thankfully, he didn’t try and
comment on all the strangeness I couldn’t cover in my eyes for those brief
seconds. Then the walls were back and we were embracing again, heated kisses
bruising my mouth.
“We’ve got to go back… your
flight,” he whispered quietly in my ear, his voice tinged with melancholy.
“I know.” Dull response to his
painful words as I pulled away and started back down the path.
“Morgana.”
The full pronunciation of my name stopped me, as well as the tone in which it
was said. As soon as I had turned, the blond hair in front of my eyes blurred
and melted into the trees and his scent invaded my nose. Once more, that
crushing pressure against my ribs as he held me, the sick desire for bruises to
commemorate his touch.
Yet before I knew it, he was gone
and that wonderful scent of his, though clinging to my skin from our nights
spent with limbs tangled together, was quickly faded. Then I remembered,
remembered why my shoulder ached.
“Where is that damned… there!” I
cried triumphantly under my breath, pulling the first of the volumes from
beneath a heap of my own papers and all the other books. Sliding the smooth,
apparently cleaned, book onto my lap, I removed the stationary and read through
Taylor’s hasty scrawl before cracking open the book.
Morgana,
Well, it’s all here… none of it I’m
proud of and yet I somehow really don’t regret most of it. yes, there are
things that I regret doing for obvious reasons. But the entire experience has
formed me into the person I am today. If not for all the bullshit, I wouldn’t
be the Taylor you know.
Granted, it wasn’t the right way to
go about everything. I’m aware. But like I said, I feel this need for you to
know everything. And I mean everything. This is a detailed account of the life
of Taylor Hanson. Might attempt to give it some sort of nifty title… Cruel
Intentions… nah, they already nabbed that one… I’ve kinda
given the volumes the name of Satin Lace… it’s a metaphor that I must have
scrawled down someplace… you’ll find it… but I can hear you shutting off the
water and I want a head start. Going out to the tree, but you’re on the plane
reading this so you already know. If you do look at it before coming after me,
I will be greatly surprised because I would bet cold hard cash that you’ll wait
until you board that plane.
I love you Morgana.
Please remember how much I love you when you want to kill me for all the things
I’ve done. There are many things you’re not going to like …
Taylor
I repressed the smirk that wanted
to break free as I replaced the letter in the front cover of the leather bound
book, fingers running over the first page. It was blank save for the thick
black words of ‘Satin Lace’ scrawled over the center in Taylor’s scribble.
Well, I thought, glaring down at
the angry writing that greeted the first glance to the page, I might as well
start reading this. Taking note of the date, February of 1998, I leaned back
and propped the volume on my knee.
“Days
like this I don’t know what to do with myself,
All day - and all night,
I wander the halls along the walls and
under my breath,
I say to myself,
I need fuel – to take flight...”
So now it’s my turn to
mope, I thought bitterly as I lay back against the bed, not my bed; it was the
bed of this house, ‘cause the house owned everything. It owned the beds, it
owned the mirrors, it owned me for the next three months. At least
the next three months.
Good-bye to the
sanctity of having my own room. Back were the three simple twin beds stuffed in
a room too small for them. At least there were no more bunk beds. Thank God for
that.
Isaac was on the phone
with Rebecca, chattering away, perfectly rhapsodic. He had her back, and while
it had killed him to leave Tulsa just as things were coming back together
between them, he had her back and was happy with that.
There was something I
wasn’t even going to attempt. My mother would no doubt shoot down another visit
from Morgana. Not to mention my wonderful girlfriend
herself. Though she hadn’t said
anything, she still had her classes, and she had already moaned to me how she
had to work all through the holiday. Of course, her moaning had stopped when
she gleefully told me that while her feet would kill her for the busy nights,
her bank account would be quite proud.
Yet I knew if I said, Morgana, come here, be with me, she’d drop everything.
She’d be here as soon as I said the word, carefully orchestrating everything.
But I wasn’t going to ask her. As much as I wanted to, I wasn’t. She has her
own life, I told myself impatiently, angry and frustrated when my throat began
to tighten.
Get over it Taylor!
Snap the fuck out of it. I was up and gazing out the window, the radio station
Isaac had chosen to blare throwing a wonderfully ironic song out. Mostly
considering that when I let my gaze wander higher I found those gaudy white
letters, so starkly smooth, glaring back from the greenery of the hills.
“Space may be the
final frontier, but it’s made in a Hollywood basement,” I sang along softly,
the twinge of bitterness the song always rose in me carrying the words along in
a caustic tone. Disgusted, I slammed the curtains against one-another.
This city is so dirty.
Everybody loves Hollywood. But how many of them really know about the place?
The streets are run-down, some of the stores holding an almost ramshackle look
to them. Sure, they have their brilliantly painted signs out front, but look at
the walls. It’s all falling apart. And it’s not with the charm of the New
Orleans’ French Quarter or Paris’ Latin Quarters’ crumbling buildings. It’s
just a glorified dump, plain and simple.
The famed Melrose
Avenue, littered with fetish shops and “trendy” clothing stores, with its
cracked sidewalks. Trash covering the
streets, trash covering the beloved Walk of Fame. Sure, they cleaned it up all
nice for the cameras when a new star knelt beside it. Made the sidewalk shimmer
for those ten square feet. But walk up a little. The gum will come back. The
grime will dull that brilliant polish.
Yep, this is
Hollywood. We drag out all the cleaners we can find and scrub, scrub; we honor
our stars for a media frenzied hour or so, and then look at it. It goes to
shit. And nobody cares.
Funny how the tourists
come to see Mann’s Chinese Theatre, come to see their beloved Walk of Fame,
even they don’t seem all that surprised by the dirt. Flyers crumpled or
hanging by one last, stubborn staple to the lamp posts, to the walls of
construction sites long ago forgotten.
Welcome to Hollywood.
We’ll be glad to take your money and then kick your ass right out of town. By
the way, nice wallet.
I hadn’t talked to Morgana since I had been in California. The one question
I’d asked pertaining to my journals had been answered with a swift, "I’m
reading them.” No more offered and she had finally asked me not to call her
until she had finished with them. She would call my cell phone to get the
number of the house. Or she’d page me. But just leave her alone.
She was confused, she
said. What she was reading was taking a toll on her emotions and it was all a
jumbled mess. She didn’t quite know what to make of it all other than she
needed time to do things. For starters, to finish reading. Then to
absorb.
I’d hung up in
disappointment, dragging my feet along as I returned to my room. Looked around,
taking stock of it. So little personality on the walls… should do something
about that when I got back. Then retreated to the front steps to watch as
everything was loaded into the van, only to get yelled at that I was not
helpless. Why the hell was I just sitting there watching? Get off my ass and
help, for God’s sake!
“I don’t think God
gives a damn whether or not I load luggage,” I’d muttered under my breath while
walking painfully slowly to the van. Instantly, my mother’s fingers were curled
around my wrist. “Watch it, Jordan Taylor,” she’d hissed before going back to
the house for more of the numerous bags that traveled with a family of nine.
This was day number
two in the hills of Hollywood. In this splendid house, a house teetering
perilously on its little side of the hill. There was a pool, yes, in the small
backyard, but other than that, it would appear the drop was steep and
unforgiving.
Maybe I could go find
that reservoir Morgana was telling me about, I
thought mindlessly, flipping up my laptop and pressing the power button. Go out
for a run. Get some of this bullshit off my mind. Make Isaac get off that
damned phone and go with me. Nah, get Zac off Playstation
and make him go with me before he
gets going on another kick of ‘you and Isaac never do anything with me!’.
And yet when I
returned nearly two hours later with a sweaty, panting Zac, I didn’t feel any
better. I had joked about shoving Zac off the concrete rail on which we
stretched, my back to the Hollywood sign resting to the right, and deep into
the green water. Perhaps the only clean thing in Hollywood, that reservoir.
We’d run our mouths at each other, between the pants that we each gasped out.
Tad bit out of shape,
boys?
I knew Zac was glad
I’d asked him to go instead of Isaac. Glad we had gone without Isaac. Glad that
for what was perhaps the first time in a long time, I chose to do something
with him. That he wasn't being shut out. And I was just happy that Zac wasn’t…
well, that he was willing to do things with me again.
Now, as we both
collapsed onto the couches that cluttered the tasteful, yet small, living room,
we exchanged those wry grins. There… with the small Matchbox cars discarded to
the floor for some other poor unfortunate soul to tread on, we could both
relax.
I found myself wanting
to confide in Zac, looking over and seeing the rose color fading from his
cheeks, the slim legs, the entire frame so built like my own. I never went to
Zac… it was always Isaac. But Isaac was wrapped in his own life now, and I
didn’t want his love-struck opinion of anything. I wanted an honest answer. And
Zac, Zac was well-known for his ‘honesty’ with me.
“Zac, you remember all that crap with me
before Morgana, right?” I forced myself not to wince
at the harsh look that came into his eyes, the fleeting look. Yes, I knew what
he was remembering. Remembering all the awful things I couldn’t tell Morgana to her face. But Zac knew. Zac had experienced
it .
“Yeah, Tay, who could
forget?” He turned away from me and I almost instantly regretted opening my
mouth. We’d had such a fun time, running
through the woods and then out to see the view of the valley. Look, there, it’s
LA in all its smoggy glory.
“I… I just wanted to
ask you… if you didn’t know me until after all of it… and I told you
everything… would you hate me?” To my surprise, the words were incredibly hard
to force out. A lump had built itself with miraculous speed deep in my throat
and the words didn’t want to squeeze passed.
Zac’s chocolate eyes
widened as he looked back at me, curious and a tad worried. “Tay, who did you
tell?”
“Morgana…
well, I didn’t exactly tell her…” I stopped for a moment, puzzled by the look
of relief that overcame his features as he settled back. Then out came the
entire tale… all the dreams, everything. I told Zac all of it, the girl in the
rundown apartment building, the mark on my arm… everything… edited.
He stared back at me,
total shock in his features as it all slowly sank in. Gulp it all down, I
thought numbly, leaning back and waiting for the inescapable judgment as Zac
swallowed thickly, eyes stuck on my face.
“Who else knows… all
that?”
“Morgana.”
I gave him a bitter smile, stretching against the couch. Off went the
sweat-soaked wife-beater and then I sat. “She knows more than that… she’s got
my diaries from that time… she’ll know things I can’t remember anymore. And
there’s bound to be things I can’t recall.”
“You never told Isaac
or Tom?” Total disbelief. “I mean, I
knew this was going on… you can’t hide everything from us… Mom and Dad
are different, but we’re your brothers! I… I just never realized it was this
bad…”
“No, not Ike, not Tom,
just Morgana.” I offered him my chilling smile as I
stood, stretched again. God, did my legs hurt. “And now you.”
“And you want to know
how I think Ana is taking all of this?” Zac looked at me tentatively, like he
was afraid to ask the question. Afraid he’d asked me something far too
personal. He remembered what I’d done in the past when he’d invaded my space.
But that had been when
I was seeing through a drug-induced haze.
“Yeah.” No hostility
to be had now. Now that I was clean, sober… and had a very real love of my life
hanging in perils.
“I wish I knew. She
loves you, man. I mean, you’ve told her before… it’s just got to be a lot to
take in. Look, I’m your brother. I love you. I’m shocked by what you just told
me, but in a way, it’s all the more amazing that you’ve pulled yourself out,
without counseling, without therapy.”
“That’s where you’re
wrong, Zac. I’ve had therapy, counseling.” I gave him a weak smile as I walked
over to the picture window and gazed out over the valley, to that wretched
sign. “Ana has been the best therapy I could have asked for. She’s done
everything for me that a counselor would. Makes me talk about it, let’s me talk
once I’ve started. Listens with a compassionate ear and tells me how I’ve
fucked up when I need to hear that.”
Zac studied me while I
spoke, neck craned at an odd angle. “If she’s been there for you through the
worst of it all, I think she’ll be there
for you now as well. It seems you need her now more than ever.”
Then he was gone,
presumably to shower. I was left to stare at the empty hillside, speckled to
the left and to the right with extravagant houses and expensive cars.
And there you have it
Taylor. Maybe that’s what you were afraid of the entire time. That your kid
brother would tell you what was best in the long run, that perhaps the one who
you’ve always shut out would learn from that. Would learn far more than you
yourself had.
I wandered into the
kitchen where my mother sat, drinking a cup of steaming tea. A timer clicked
softly on the stove, not our stove, just a simple stove. Smell of bread baking
in the oven. Smelt great, just like our kitchen at home.
“How was your run?” my
mother asked as I took a seat, eyes twinkling lightly. “I saw you and Zac come
in all red-faced.”
“We’re both out of
shape,” I explained wryly, tipping back the chair to retrieve a can of Pepsi
from the fridge without having to get up.
Lazy much?
“Taylor, don’t tip
your chair,” she admonished, giving a stern look before returning to her
sipping. Her eyes cast over me, taking in the flushed cheeks… “You’re looking a
lot better these days. Sleeping easier?”
“Yeah,” I replied,
trying to keep the unease from my voice. That was the excuse I had always given
her. Tired. Couldn’t sleep. Lack of sleep explained the blood-shot eyes, the
weird moods. Insomnia is keeping me up late at night, Mom, no, it’s nothing
like speed that’s got me so jittery. Couldn’t be Ecstasy. Just good ol’ insomnia.
“Well that’s good.
Your father and I were worried about you for a while there. But you’re looking
much better.” She patted my hand lightly and it was all I could do to swallow
the disgust at being treated like a child. In four months, I would be eighteen.
Hardly a child.
I left after another
moment or so, my mother going back to her tea and Cooking Light magazine.
Another question was at the back of my mind, haunting me. I wanted so badly to
know what had happened with Rebecca and Isaac. Wanted to know why they had
broken up the way they had. Wanted to know what Isaac had ever done to cause
him to so publicly apologize.
I had pondered that a
lot since I hadn’t been talking to Morgana. She knew;
most likely Rebecca had told her. But I couldn’t ask her. She had begged me not
to, begged me not to ask her what was going on with my brother. Didn’t I have a right to know?
“Apparently not,”
I muttered as I went into the room that
was to serve as a bedroom for Isaac, Zac, and myself. Zac, hair soaked through
and dripping on his bare shoulders, sat in front of my laptop, typing
furiously.
“Hi, Tay, sorry I
didn’t ask. I thought-“ I waved my hand at him. What did I care if he used my
damned computer? I really had nothing to hide on it. Everything I had to hide
was either with Morgana or tucked into a hidden
crevice of one of my suitcases.
Someone had opened the
curtains I’d snapped shut and there was that damned sign again, glaring in its
stark white letters. How I was beginning to despise it! I never knew that this
thing that I had become a part of would ever anger or revolt me so.
“Have you seen Ike?” I
asked Zac, who then looked up from the screen to stare at me blankly.
“Nope, not since we
left. He was gabbing to Becca last I knew.” Zac
turned away from me and went back to the computer screen. “I’m done in the
bathroom if you’d like to shower your rank self.”
“Funny Zac.” I snapped
the towel he’d left on the floor against his back before running gleefully to
the bathroom, lock fastened securely behind me.
“I know where you
sleep, Taylor Hanson!” came the fierce retort on the door, followed by pounding
of ridiculous volume.
“And I know where you sleep, Zachary Hanson!” I threw back
in a mocking tone, laughing at his protests, weak attempts at come backs. The
pounding ceased and I laughed, getting into the shower.
The water felt nice.
That much I could give this town. City water with that nice, strong water
pressure. Kind of like having a nice massage. Morgana
gave really nice massages…
Stop it! Nonsense,
Taylor, all nonsense. You’re being ridiculous. You’re just torturing yourself.
She’ll call you when she’s good and ready. Besides, you’ve got to think about
the meeting tonight. Morgana said he needed to talk
to you. You and Isaac. Meeting about… well, we should know.
And did we. It hadn’t
taken more than a few seconds for it all to sink in. He knew. He had found out
about Rebecca, Morgana. He knew that neither of us
were about to give up the happiness we had found. And we were both getting to
that age where the rings started to flash… Isaac had been thinking about that
for a while anyway. I just got the impression that it wouldn’t be long before
Rebecca showed up for dinner with a rock on her left hand. Not long at all…
Then there was that
question of Isaac again. What had happened? Why didn’t I get any answers? Isaac
had always confided in me! For Christ’s sake, he was my best friend. I went to
him before I went to Tom, or to Kira for that matter.
Maybe I could try
again while we were out here. Go find him after I took a shower. See if he’s on
the phone and if not, ask him outright. What happened? I’m your brother. Tell
me.
Yes, that sounds like
a good plan. Towel off, get dressed. Ignore the plotting look on Zac’s face and
keep those wet towels out of his reach. There we go, shorts, ah, it’s So Cal,
who needs a shirt?
Now, off to find
Isaac. There! Down by the pool, frying to a crisp. The phone was in the grass
next to him. Good!
That’s right, Mom, I
know, no running on the stairs. Yes, I’ll be sure to not do it again. Alright!
I’m not talking back… fine!
Freedom! Fresh air and
clean clothes, wet hair cool against my neck.
“Hey, Ike,” I greeted
him, plopping into a lounge chair and shielding my eyes from the sun. He eyes
me suspiciously, his sunglasses coming up from the grass and covering his eyes
as he sat up.
“Who are you and
where’s Taylor? First a run with Zac, then an actual shower right after, and
now you’re down here taking to me?”
Isaac laughed as I ripped up a handful of grass and whipped it at him. He
sputtered for a moment and then laughed a few more times. “Nope, I see you are
Taylor.”
“Funny Ike.”
“I thought so. What’s
up?”
“Nothing really. Just
wanted to ask you something.” I looked over at him carefully, trying to judge
this. I didn’t want him to blow up at me, to throw a fit. I just wanted to know. Damn me and my
curiosity; I had a feeling it was about to get me in trouble.
“Having problems with
you and Ana?”
“Actually, no. I
wanted to ask about you.” I paused, drawing in a deep breath and trying to
ignore the darkening of his features, the tensing of his jaw. “The stuff with
you and Rebecca… why’d you ever break up?” There, it was said. And I was going
to get hell for asking.
“Taylor, I-” He
stopped, looking over at me again, struggling for control.
What the hell had I
done now?
“That stuff… shit, I
never told anyone,” he suddenly whispered, shaking his head. An anxious glance
over to the sliding glass door, which my mother sat on the other side of. “And
Mom and Dad can never find out… Mom would be… She’d hate me.”
I was silent now while
he spoke, stunned by the words. I hadn’t expected anything like what he was
saying. Maybe I didn’t want to know why they’d ever broken up. Maybe I should
just let Isaac keep it inside. But he was talking again, and I should probably
pay some form of attention to him.
“…wanted to tell some
one all along. Just one person. But we’d agreed.” He looked a little lost, brow
furrowed lightly.
“She told Morgana.” I didn’t know if it would make him feel better,
or just angry, and I was greatly relieved when a look of ease came into his
features.
“So you already know?”
“No, actually, I
don’t. Ana practically begged me not to ask her about it. She’s known at least
since that morning a the hotel when you threw the glass.” Careful Taylor.
You’re walking on eggshells here. No reason to pull on the combat boots.
“And she never told
you?”
“Nope.”
“Wow…” The surprise
was evident as he leaned back, soaking up the sunshine again. “If I may ask,
why haven’t you two been talking all the time? I know it’s expensive, but it’s
never stopped you before.”
“I gave her my diaries
to read… from all the shit the last few years… I wanted her to know, ya know? But couldn’t tell her. She said she’s call when
she’d finished. Said she needed time to think and absorb it all.” I shook my
head to clear the swarm of thoughts that overtook as soon as the name was
mentioned in connection with our relationship. Khaki shorts under my fingertips
as I toyed with the hem, then looked back over at my older brother. “Anyway,
we’re not talking about me.”
Isaac sighed, the
stillness of the yard not breaking the silence that fell after his breath. Then
he looked over at me, sunglasses hiding whatever emotion rested in those cocoa
eyes. “We made a few mistakes… that turned into a really big mistake.”
He stopped again,
glancing over his shoulder again, making sure that no one was there to behold
his words. “I acted in a way that I shouldn’t have. It wasn’t my fault
entirely, no, I’m not that delusional to think that. But I had a heavy hand in
it. People can be so hurtful.”
I listened in silence,
stillness; didn’t want to make him stop talking. I was so close to finding all
this out. It was my brother! I wanted to know why he had moped for months, why
there had been such violent arguments.
He whipped around
anxiously as the glass door slid open, our youngest brother appearing with a
towel and pool toys. “Tay!” he shrieked happily, running over and climbing onto
my lap. “Will you go swimming with
me? Zackie said to ask you cause he was busy.”
“Only if Ike will go
too,” I told him, looking at the innocent blue eyes that resembled my own, the
soft blond hair. I was willing to bet large sums of money that Mackenzie would
end up looking a lot like me.
“Ikey!”
He was on Isaac’s lap in a flash, scrambling over his long legs and tugging on
his sleeve. “Go swimming!” Isaac laughed, the innocence of our kid brother
lighting up his eyes and erasing the turmoil that lingered as the sunglasses
were flung across the yard. Mackenzie giggled triumphantly as they landed in
the grass, Isaac scooping him up, advancing to the pool. Joyful shrieks as he was dangled over the
water, then was carefully set down with the promise of going swimming.
“Later, Tay. I
actually kinda want to tell you,” Isaac confided
softly, removing his shirt and then diving into the pool.
“Later…” I mumbled
under my breath, toying with the silver cross around my neck absently before
joining my brothers in the pool. It wasn’t long before the ‘busy’ Zac came down
and jumped in.
From:
Rolling Stone Online
To: Kkat@hotmail.com
Subject:
Rolling Stone Online Subscription
Date:
Friday, November 10, 2000, 8:03 AM
“Hanson goes back into their
seemingly favorite area, beautiful So Cal, to record the follow-up to the
phenomenally successful, quadruple-platinum ’97 album, Middle of Nowhere. While
interest in the band’s music appears to be dwindling, (maybe Susie’s hit
puberty), recent rumors have ignited a tabloid frenzy over the “rockers’”
personal lives.
Following a Halloween blow-out
in their own hometown of Tulsa, rumors of both elder brothers romances’ being a
little, er, overly mature for their squeaky clean
image. Undisclosed sources whisper of highly sexual encounters at the party,
especially involving middle brother, Taylor. Could it be that this is only a
growth of older rumors talking of Taylor’s reported affair with excess? (Rumors
were fiercely denied, yet some may still wonder.)
While these three wholesome boys
from the Midwest continue to deny rumors daily, there have been statements
issued concerning possible relationships. One can only wonder if these rumors
are true, and then perhaps allow the mind to wander to the possibilities a
teenage “rock-star” may see.
The words stung deep. Taylor was
a recovering addict. He’d been clean for a full three months, almost. Three
months next week, come to think of it. He’s in a healthy relationship, his
actual “torrid love affair”, with a girl he loves to an almost questionable
degree. Thing is, nobody ever questions it. Not anyone that knows him anyway.
I decided Rolling Stone did not
know Taylor Hanson.
“He goes along
just like a water lily,
Gentle on the
surface of his thoughts his body floats,
Unweighed down by passion or intensity,
Yet unaware of
the depth which he coasts,
And he finds a
home in me,
For what
misfortune sows, he knows my touch will reap...”
I sighed heavily, stretching long
arms over tired eyes. So much to read, so much to come to grips with. The first
few pages hadn’t been so bad; it had been the time leading up to all of it.
Taylor, slightly sick of all the media frenzy, but happy… even if he was a
little frayed around the edges. Fifteenth birthday party, lonely, yes, but
extravagant at the expense of the record company in Los Angeles. Taylor was
bitter, I was to discover, deep inside himself, he was bitter. And that was
before the time he’d spent with the whores and drug dealers.
That was the time I
had now encountered. I was reading through Taylor’s wondrously detailed
accounts of the beginning of it. I was getting from it his sense of amazement
at all the pleasures he could have; he could do whatever he wanted.
…just
amazing. I can’t believe all of this. It’s just so… wow. I never imagined in my
wildest dreams that I could have all these things. I want so badly to go back
to those whores… whores! Ha! Taylor Hanson in bed with whores! Those women, so
skilled with their mouths. And their hands… well, just about any part of them.
And oh yes, I said women.
That’s
right. While Mr. I’m-a-good-virgin-boy Isaac sat here and wrote out his
tragically long letters to Rebecca, I slipped out. And I have just come back
gleaming with the fire of two beautiful women! At the same time, oh yes…
doesn’t really matter to me that I can’t remember their names. I remember their
bodies, that’s enough for me. They were absolutely beautiful. Doesn’t really
matter either that I was all but drunk in their arms.
And
there’s the true beauty of the whores. More so than their willingness to do
anything to me. It was that they would let you fuck them drunk, as sloppy as
your sorry ass might be. And they would still do you right…
“Why the hell does he want me to
read this?” I whispered as I leaned back again. Fought the tears that pricked
at my eyes. “Why does he want to torture me with these tales? Why!” Dammit, I was sick of crying. All I ever did anymore was
cry. No more!
But I knew Taylor didn’t want to
torture me. He wasn’t trying to hurt me. If anything, he was opening himself to
incredible hurt by giving me all of this. Because it was, whether I liked it or
not, Taylor. A total embodiment of Taylor.
What I currently held in my
possession was what was behind that final wall lurking in his beautiful azure
eyes. This was what Taylor had locked away in the depths that even my love
hadn’t penetrated.
I suspected this was also some
sort of test Taylor was throwing at me, subconsciously or not. Here, look at
how bad I’ve been. And if you can still look at me and love me and not fear me
than good! I know that I’m safe with you. And if you can’t take it, leave me
now before I can get hurt anymore.
Perhaps cutting off contact with
him like I had wasn’t the best idea. But I needed time to think, time to
absorb. I couldn’t take in everything when I had my Taylor, my innocent and
pure Taylor, telling me how much he loved me on the other end. I needed time to
process everything and take it all in for all it was worth, bad as it was. I
was determined to understand it all.
It had been hard not talking to
him the last few days. I read and read, in my study halls, ‘til I had to go to work, ‘til my eyes
drooped. So much… Taylor’s tiny scrawl packed neatly into the lines. Deep
breath and keep reading…
June
of 1999
Can’t
remember the actual date. Flying high right now and I don’t think that anyone
here suspects. Well, probably Isaac, but whatever, he’s off writing another of
his god damned novel letters to Rebecca. I told Mom I was having trouble
sleeping again and took some Night Quill. Yeah, Night Quill. It’s starting to
set in and I’m feeling the effects.
Oh
hell no! Like I would slurp down some of that atrocious green swill. I’m flying
high alright… got the good shit. Back in New York City! Got the good shit
straight from the man himself and my, am I flying! I can barely keep this pen
straight –
That was for damn sure. The ink,
blue ink that covered all the volumes in the very same pigment, never missing a
page, was everywhere. His words were… shaky, to say the least.
- but
what the fuck do I care? Not like I need anyone to read this. Hmm… Isaac’s up
now, wandering around and such. I do believe he’s just cursed me. Laughter. And
lot’s of it. Aw, Ike, if only you could loosen up a little. Becca’s
got that chain on you awfully tight, my friend.
What
the hell? It’s not up to me to insure he has a good time. Let Isaac take care
of himself. Taylor’s taking care of himself. Imagine that… Taylor Hanson
fucking the sluts of New York City and then merrily trotting off to buy his
dope…
The
life I lead! I don’t think that it could really get much better. This is the
greatest…
Mom’s
sentenced me to the room for tonight and tomorrow though. That blows royally! I
just want to go meet up with this girl again.. Let her do whatever she wants to
me. Interesting, she was. Let me do whatever I wanted. Game new meaning to the
thought of ‘entertaining my wildest fantasies’.
I wonder
if any of them will ever find this… wouldn’t that be funny! Oh, that would just
be grand. I could see it now. My mother, waving this book in front of my face,
demanding answers. I think I would just giggle and tell her to read on. It’s an
interesting story.
That was just one of the many
entries made by a very… affected… Taylor. He wrote on and on, babbling really,
when he was out of it. But there were the sober entries. Entries where he was
very coherent… very lonely. Very much the soft, gentle being I knew and loved. There was so much compassion
when he was sober, showing that even then Taylor had been there. That was why I
had been able to draw him to me relatively easily.
After all, it’s not often that a
drug-addict, or close to, will leave it all behind. But what I discovered in
the diaries was that Taylor had been looking for what he had found in my all
along. Been searching for that understanding that I offered. And when he’d
found it, he’d cast aside the meaningless bullshit he’d used to try and hide
from everyone else.
September
of 1999
All by
my lonesome… it would appear that’s how it is. I’m at home now, supposedly glad
to be here. And why shouldn’t I be happy to be back home? I want to be here. I
want to be in my own bed, in my own room. I’m ruining myself doing all of this.
My limbs are ragged… but this is what happens when we abuse ourselves, isn’t
it? I know. But as much as I know what I’m doing, I’m not going to stop. I’m
not stopping until I’m good and ready and nobody can make me quit now. Even if
I am all but killing myself doing it.
I
can’t help but feel this way, now. I know the second I return to New York, or
LA, or Paris, or any other big city, I’ll be glad to be in the thick of it all.
But now I’m home and Isaac, no longer the good little virgin boy, has Rebecca…
he loves her so much that it just kills me to look at them. Makes me want to go
rushing back to the whores that love me.
Ah,
but who am I kidding? The whores don’t love me, they just love my body. They
tell me all these things when I lay there beside them. How they love my soft
flesh, the angelic blond locks… innocence and a strange knowing, both resting
in my eyes at the same time. I am seductive, they say… how they wish I would
sing to them!
But I
don’t care to sing to them at all. Sitting here in despair, free from the
happiness that I know only when assisted by the means of drugs or alcohol, I
want nothing more than to have a girl to sing to. To have just one innocent
girl, unscathed by any of the horror I have come to love. Just one… to love her
as Isaac loves Rebecca and not want for this hell that I embody day in and day
out.
Well, I suppose he’s found that
now. At least I have given him that. And he does love to sing for me, probably
because he realizes how much I love his voice. Perhaps it explains why when we
were first together, a pained look would come over his features when I told him
that I found him to be my little angel. Why I had less and less asked him to
sing to me, instead waiting for the childlike glee to overcome his features as
he burst out into random song.
But when he chose to sang, there
was no end to the wonderful notes he let loose. So very softly, the words would
tumble free, gently drifting about the air. He would go on and on forever it
seemed, singing only to me when we lay alone together. Whether in my bed, or
his bed, or some strange bed belonging to the hotel, or perhaps just huddled
beneath the heavens… I would see it start in his eyes and just wait in quiet
rapture as he burst into song…
My sweet, darling Taylor. My,
weren’t you a bad boy?
I was growing tired of reading it
all… tired of the pain that swelled in my heart as I discovered yet another of
the carefully detailed passages revealing one of his adventures by the witching
hour. Wearing of the pangs that I felt all through my chest every time I came
across another lonely tale of longing and sorrow.
But then there was nothing short
of horror when at last, Taylor was nothing short of drowning in all of it. When
he was as deeply as embedded in all of it as he might have been and still been
able to draw himself out. I was horrified…
…amazed
even myself this time. The dread that is still flowing through my veins, even
now as a shaking hand begs to write this down, confess to the one place that I
can.
Maybe
it was the heroin that blanked me out. I have no idea. But I’ve got to be more
careful… I spent the night at Tom’s, thank God that this party was here at home
where I was able to conceal the evidence that I had been out all night. At least
it was here in Tulsa that it happened, and not in some distant city where
nobody would care to hush things up. I’m here, where the people will leave my
name out of everything.
This
has to stop… I have terrified myself this morning with what I have done.
Last
night, well that has been reduced to nothing short of a blur… my last coherent
memory is of letting the needle slide into my elbow… the sharp little pinch and
then relief as I leaned against the cool tiles of Tom’s bathroom floor. Nobody
but him knew of my heroin usage here; nobody can find out. I was going to do
it, but I was also going to hide it.
But
that’s not any of it that I wanted to tell. I am losing any form of reasonable
thought as every moment passes and I think I may pass out soon. But no, there
is the sin to confess!
Oh,
the pure disgust I feel for myself at this moment.
But
this is what must be told:
As I
said, nothing is remembered beyond the sweet relief of my injection. But this
morning, when I sat on the couch with Tom, he who was hung-over from his
alcohol there was a girl between us. She had been raped. And I’ll be damned if
I know who did it. Because we figured it out and we know who did it.
IT WAS EITHER ME OR TOM AND WE DON’T
KNOW WHICH ONE! I MAY HAVE RAPED A GIRL AND I DON’T KNOW!
That was it. I had had enough for
the night. Slammed the thick book shut with a decisive thud and let it fall
from my grasp.
“Oh, my God, he could have raped
a girl…” I whispered softly to myself, the blue ink that bit through the page
in utter anxiety burned into my mind. Rape…
Jesus, that was something I had
been through and could understand… and Taylor had always comforted me, telling
me that he couldn’t understand why a guy would do such a thing. That he who
could commit such a crime was a very sick person indeed.
And now, come to find out, he
could have done it himself!
Utter betrayal and hurt were the
only emotions that I could disentangle from the whirl in my mind. I felt
nauseous suddenly, flinging back the blankets from my bed and tearing into my
bathroom. I didn’t even both with the light as I dropped to my knees in front
of the toilet and out it all came. My knees eventually fell out beneath me and
I lay against the cool tiles, damp cheek pressed to the only comfort in the
silent house.
My Taylor… the Taylor I loved…
all these horrors… I somehow just wished he’d hidden it all from me. I wished I
had never even known that those damned red books existed.
But this… I had known about the
drugs… I had figured that he had stolen things, damaged property, but nothing
like this! I had known there would be graphic descriptions of his sluts, of his
drugs… but this!
“How could he say all those
things to me?” I whispered, dismayed to hear the roughness of my voice. I
couldn’t get up, not now. I didn’t care that the red numbers illuminating one
corner of my room read off the time as well passed two in the morning. Didn’t
care I had class the next day, bright and early.
Fucking hypocrite! He didn’t
understand? Then how the hell did he wonder if he himself had done it? And that
was almost more disturbing than the fact that he might have done such a thing; he didn’t know!
That poor girl. She didn’t even
know by whom she’d been raped! She just knew it was some guy who’d had a little
too much of everything and decided to take it out on her.
It probably was Taylor! God, why
was I so surprised? Shouldn’t I have known that there would be some unspeakable
evil lurking in his past? He’d tried to warn me, hadn’t he? Tried to chase me
away perhaps with that evil tale of the murdered girl. Oh just wait till I came
to that in these chronicles! That will be downright glorious.
I managed to crawl back to my
bedroom finally, my stomach emptied of all there was to be gotten rid of. The
nausea was still there, coming in and out as the tide as I dragged myself over
the hardwood floor and onto my bed. Didn’t even bother to turn off the light as
I fell into a restless sleep.
Morning came to me through my
sister pounding on the door. Apparently, I was about to be severely late for
school.
(Don’t
go)
“I’m gonna stay home
today, Nic. I… I threw up last night and didn’t sleep
much. I still feel a little sick,” I replied, trying to hide the redness of my
eyes. And the thick volume beside my bed painted with the same bloody shade.
“You want me to get you anything
before I jet?”
“No… just hit the light please.
And ask Mom to call the school.” I knew my words were slurred as I turned back
to the pillows, grateful for the thick black curtains hanging from my windows,
obliterating all form of sunlight. Blackness soon became all I knew and I fell
back to my restless dreams…
“Taylor!”
I cried as I opened the door, flinging myself into his arms. God, I hadn’t
expected to see him for a while. And now here he was, standing on my front
steps with blood-red roses and a brilliant smile.
“Hey,
Morgana.” Something not right in his voice, but I
ignored it. He’d probably been on one too many planes lately. Just wanted to be
in one place for once. He stepped into the house, handing over the roses. The
thorns pricked lightly at my fingers as I took them, but I ignored the faint
pain, instead quickly transferring the beauties to a crystal vase.
“Lemme put these in my room,” I said softly, starting up the
stairs. Taylor followed, the front door closing behind him. I heard the lock
turn, yet wasn’t all too surprised. Habit, I supposed, locking the doors behind
him.
“I
missed you,” he whispered to me, arms folding around my waist. His chin rested
in the hollow of my shoulder as he brought my left hand to his lips. “You’re
bleeding… I made you bleed.”
“No,
Taylor, I wasn’t careful enough. It’s fine… just a prick,” I assured him,
turning. But his eyes were troubled, disturbed.
“No!
I did it!” He grabbed my arm roughly and then we weren’t in my room anymore. We
were on the beach and no one was there. Complete solitude. I smiled as the
waves crashed below, further down the shore. Moonlight sparkling over the
water.
Yet
suddenly I screamed. I was at that
beach again, and it was happening again. Crying, screaming, make it stop. It
hurts so much.
“You’re
just a little slut. This is fun…” Matt’s voice had changed until it was no
longer Matt, and when he threw back his head and laughed, it was Taylor’s eyes
that glared into mine.
Another
scream was uncurling in my throat as I looked at him, but I couldn’t make it
come out. My throat was constricting and I realized it was Taylor’s hands
around my throat. And there, in the moonlight, that cross, my cross burned with the night’s fire. I was
sliding away and in came the tide, carrying me away.
The
last thing I saw was Taylor laughing as he stood just out of reach of the
waves, standing right in the bloody sand.
I woke with a start, gasping for
air. “Oh, God…” I whispered as I lay back. Just a dream… just a dream…
I hadn’t dreamed about being
raped in so long. I thought the horror may have finally left me and here in
was, back for another round. And now it wasn’t Matt I saw, but Taylor. It was
Taylor’s hideous laughter that rang in my ears as I repeated the infamous
phrase to myself.
Just a dream… just a dream…
This is what happens when you
read horribly disturbing things, I thought bitterly, about the love of your
life.
Twelve-thirty already, I realized
in wonder, rubbing at my eyes. The nausea was back again as I sat up, but I
ignored it. I had to get up, had to do something productive. Had to wake myself
up; had to go to work. Needed to be on their good side… none were too thrilled
with me disappearing the last weekend. But I supposed I was appeasing them by
working all through the holiday. Nope, my Thanksgiving dinner would not be with
my mother and sister or any of the other family; it would be with Skye and
Rachel in the back room during our measly fifteen minute break at seven. No
candles or beautifully set table for us; empty milk crates and perhaps some
cold meal whipped up in the kitchen for us.
But I would appreciate the money.
I was going to put away most of it into a savings I had started for plane
tickets to see Taylor. The Taylor fund… so I could fly to visit him wherever he
happened to be in February, during the week I had off.
Taylor… here we are back to that
wonderfully fun subject. Oh, look, the nausea’s about to win, awfully strong
high-tide this time…
“Darling,
give me your absence tonight,
Take all your sympathy and leave it
outside,
Cuz
there’s no kind of loving that can make this alright,
I’m trying to find a place where I
belong,
And suddenly I feel like a different
person…
“As the darkness turns into the dawn,
The child is gone...”
Back here again,
except this time, you’re alone, I thought with a smirk, stretching out above
green water that was deeper than I cared to imagine. These thick concrete rails
are all that’s stopping me from tumbling down.
It had been a full
week since I had heard from my girlfriend, and now I had turned to something
that I suddenly found very therapeutic. I came to the reservoir, the one she
had told me about, and ran my ass off. Ran until I thought my lungs would
burst, and only then slowing to a walk. Then breaking into a run as soon as the
pain dulled from a sharp stab in my side to that ache I’d grown used to.
Few people recognized
me, I discovered. Then again, I wouldn’t
have been too terribly surprised if someone told me that while running
the last week in those hills, I had passed quite a few of the Hollywood elite
myself.
The few who did didn’t
bother me. The only way I knew they had realized who I was came from the looks
I received, the way some teenage girls would struggle to keep up with me, even
though they were clearly in pain and unable to run much further.
I didn’t mind being
alone either. My mother had been livid when I first told her I was going
without one of my brother’s or any of the security people. Number one, security
people couldn’t keep up with me. Number two, I did go with Zac a few times, but
now I wanted to go alone.
Yep, an entire week
since I had heard from my girlfriend. I constantly checked my cell phone for
any voicemail messages, took my beeper with me everywhere. Even here, as I
started jogging over the smooth black tar, I had the beeper with me, clipped to
the waist of my shorts. Not much different from the natives, the thought with a
wry grin. Out here in the reservoir, jogging, but not without my designer
sunglasses and beeper. Or my bottle of Evian.
I winced at the
thought of all the crap contained in the diaries. Had she gotten through the
time me and Tom… what had she thought of that? Undoubtedly horrified, but there
was bound to be something else. She had been through the receiving end of our
actions; she knew! Beyond a shadow of doubt, she had been upset.
What can I say to
redeem myself in her eyes? What could I do even if she were speaking to me
right now? I can’t comfort her! There’s really nothing I could tell her to make
her feel any better. It must seem like a betrayal to her. Why, why didn’t I
just keep my mouth shut when it came to her rape? Why did I tell her I didn’t
see how any guy could do that?
But I knew why!
Because that was how I felt. I didn’t understand how a guy could rape someone.
I almost wish I could remember doing it, if it was in fact me, just so I could
have that answer. Granted, I had also been gone, far, far away from any reason
during the time in question, and so had Tom. Either one of us, sober and in a
right state of mind, were horrified that we may have committed such an
appalling crime.
Of course it was
hushed up, as scandal involving my name so often was. The girl had been from
out of town, and too fucked up to remember anyway. Neither of us ever said
anything to anyone. It was our secret, that we had each other to tell it to if
ever the need to tell someone came up. And it had, and we had argued, and we
had fought each other. What if there was something seriously wrong with that
girl now? Didn’t we owe it to her to at least find out?
It had caused quite
the cliché reaction that I had thought it would. Instead of dropping everything
in horror, I threw myself back into it, determined not to remember any of it,
to forget completely. More girls, more drugs; make it all go away.
And yet I had
discovered that it never went away. It was still there, just like all my other
shit. And even this, this brutal stress I was inflicting on my body as I took
off in a full-out run, it wouldn’t erase all the pain I’ve caused. I knew it
wouldn’t. The only thing for me now was to hope that Morgana
would take me back to her. That I could drown all my sorrows in her soft skin…
But I didn’t want to
think of her. I wanted to try and forget her beautiful face, her soft hands and
smooth skin… those enchanting eyes, green as the reservoir waters. Everywhere I
looked I was reminded of her…
Ah, well, if you’re
going to think about her, at least think of something constructive, I told
myself, taking deep breath after deep breath as I ran on. Like where does her
aunt live? Somewhere on Sunset she said… no, not that Sunset down in the grime
of Hollywood but the one up here. All those houses are so beautiful…
Hopefully she’ll be
able to be here for the holidays. Hopefully, we’ll be able to snuggle up
together in front of a fire, if her aunt has a fireplace, and just be together.
Hell, I don’t even really care about the sex if we can’t have it… I just want
her in my arms.
But then a chilling
thought occurred to me, one which caused me to force myself to banish all
thoughts of my beloved girlfriend from my mind and think of anything but: I
just wanted to be able to be sure that we would still be dating when Christmas
came around. Because right then I wasn’t.
* * *
It was peaceful here,
even if I was sitting in the pollution of one of the world’s most famous slums.
It was here, weaving through the multi-million dollar homes, rising up from the
stench of the City of Angels.
But peaceful,
nonetheless, because I couldn’t hear the noise of the intricate weaving of
highways that I could see from my perch on the roof of this house.
Hadn’t been too hard
to get up here. Grab the roof when standing on the window sill and then it was
all a matter of using my arms to yank myself onto the red tiles covering the
roof. Stucco, I think. Wasn’t that what
they call these tiles that make all the homes out here look oh-so-faux Spanish?
Hell, they use it
enough, from these palatial homes in the hills to the housing developments that
start a hundred miles to the east of LA. The same housing developments that all
look the same, save for this window being placed in that spot, or this garage
having two doors and this three. Or perhaps it’s just the glass in the garage
doors. In any case, they come into view as soon as the drugged pilot with the
nasal voice drones on that we are about a hundred miles to the east of LAX.
Should be landing in… oh… twenty minutes or so.
The tiles on the roof
where my ass was firmly planted were warmed from the sun, almost hot to the
touch in some places. But I had thought of this, and was now quite comfortable
on a towel. Nobody knew I was up here, and my spot on the roof couldn’t be seen
from the backyard. I was hidden and let in silence.
I had, of course,
taken this precious time of solitude to write in my little red book. Not like
it was really all that little, but hey… maybe someday I would hand this one
over to Morgana too. If I hadn’t done too much damage
by handing over the other ones.
November
of 2000
Out here
in So Cal, the Hollywood hills… on the roof! I don’t know why I never thought
of this before. It’s nice up here, quiet… nobody can find me as far as I know.
I went
running again today, alone again. Mom’s throwing a fit of course that I choose
to go alone. Why can’t she understand how much I’ve come to value just a few
precious hours of solitude? That I use that time to think? I need that time!
No
luck with getting Isaac to talk about him and Rebecca. Other than the hardly
convincing confession that he kinda wanted to tell
me, I haven’t heard anything. I think he’s kind of avoiding me now. Ah, well…
he’ll tell me when he’s good and ready, I suppose. I wouldn’t want him to tell
me something he wasn’t comfortable with telling me anyway. I’m curious but I’m
not an idiot.
Still
nothing from Morgana. I’m really beginning to worry
about that entire situation. I need to hear from her, for my sanity. All that I
deal with all day is record executives. Meeting after meeting. We’ve hit a bit
of a bump now, switching producers. And studios. And all this other legal
bullshit that I don’t care about.
But
that meeting that Isaac and I have with Chris is tonight. Which means I should
probably get dressed in something besides my shorts. I know what he’s going to
say. I can almost see his brows furrowed together in frustration with me and
Isaac. Zac wants to know what’s going on and why Chris doesn’t want to talk to
him… but I think he figured it out. Then again, Isaac and I have been thinking
of just taking Zac along. The kid’s got to be thinking about that Ali girl… I
have heard her name a lot lately.
I
don’t want to deal with any of this right now! I just want to be with Morgana, my enchanting little beauty. I just want to hold
her and forget about all the horrible things I did. Just for it all to go away…
I just want that happiness I knew when we were together I my room, listening to
the silence of the night. Or when we were at the Halloween party, snuggled
beneath the sheets together once we’d both collapsed in utter exhaustion.
I just
want to feel her love again.
There. Now I had to
get down and I had to get dressed presentably, as my mother would put
it.
Thankfully, nobody was
in our room when I lowered my thin frame through the window and dropped easily
to the floor. Quickly hid the leather book once again and began to go through
my clothes.
Isaac appeared a
moment later from the bathroom, hair wet and a towel around his waist. “Do you
want Zac to go?” he asked as I looked over at him, quickly buttoning my velvet
shirt. It had a patch running over one shoulder and the sleeves were slit from
my upper arms, falling just over my elbows when I let my arms hang at my sides.
Went nicely with a simple pair of jeans, which I threw on as I answered Isaac:
“Well, the discussion,
for all we know, may already pertain to him as well. You saw him with Ali at
the party. Cause that’s exactly what Chris is going to want to talk to us
about… Rebecca and Morgana. And once he knows about
her, Ali too. So yeah, I’ll go grab Zac.” I left Isaac to dress and ran down
the stairs barefoot.
A shout from my mother
cautioned me not to run on the stairs, but I ignored it as I usually did her
warnings. I wasn’t going to fall down the damned stairs. I hadn’t once in all
my seventeen years and wasn’t about to make a habit out of it.
Zac was sitting on the
couch, staring at the TV with a rather blank expression on his face. “Hey, Zac,
c’mon, get dressed. You’re going into LA with us.”
“What exactly is this
meeting about?” he asked curiously as we went up the stairs. He wasn’t being
bitter about not being asked until the last minute. He knew that Morgana had asked specifically for Isaac and me.
“We’re pretty sure he
wants to discuss stuff about Rebecca and Morgana. I
take it Ali might be thrown into this too?” Zac flushed a light rose color and
that was all I needed. Yep, Ali was going to be a topic of discussion as well.
Once dressed, we all
took to the car that Isaac and I had rented. His name on the dotted line, but
we were sharing the payment. A silver BMW, sunroof, wonderful stereo system.
Even if KROQ was a crappy radio station, at least it sounded good.
And of course, all
instantly agreed to hit the In’N’Out Burger in
Hollywood on the way back… what the hell street was that on? It was near Ross…
ah, hell, we’d find it.
Fashionably late as
always, the three of us led ourselves through the office building, finding
Chris’s office as we always did. There it was, printed right on the glass door
in black paint, slightly chipped. Christopher Sabec,
Triune Music Group.
“Late as always,” he
muttered as we all plopped down in our customary spots during these meetings at
his office. Isaac in one chair, me in the other, Zac perched on the arms until
Chris ushered him into another chair.
“Traffic’s a bitch,
Chris, you know that,” I replied, shrugging. Actually, there had been little
traffic for the area. We hadn’t even stopped once in the usual bumper to bumper
lanes of the five. Just sped right into LA. But he didn’t have to know that.
“I also know that
traffic isn’t all too bad today,” he quipped right back, taking a seat on the
edge of the desk, in his usual manner. A manner which we all appreciated. Made
things more relaxed to be talking to a man sitting on his desk rather than in
the impressive chair sitting behind it. “So, guys, I see you’ve brought Zac
along… here to observe?”
“Nah…” Zac shook his
head, playing with the elastic he’d used to tie it back. “They think you might
want me here too.” He pointed to me and Isaac, then settled back into his faint
stupor of staring out into the smoggy city.
“Really.” He looked at
my older brother and I, a pondering expression overtaking his features.
“Alright, guys, so I think you know why I wanted you here then. Who’s the girl
Zac?”
“Her name’s Ali,” he
replied after a moment, cheeks flushing a faint maroon color, paying more
attention now. “It’s nothing serious… right now.”
“Alright, then I
suppose you should be here. Alright, well, this is the score.” He paused,
folding his hands into a steeple. “The girlfriend issue has become quite a bit
more lax lately. The boy bands”-he held up his hands to stop our protests that
we really had nothing to do with them-“have given up on hiding their
girlfriends. There have been announcements of marriages, etc. The record companies
have realized that there really isn’t that much difference to today’s fans if
you are attached or not.
“Therefore, though we
have always told you to pretty much say no when questioned about girlfriends,
it is now up to you to say as you please. If you don’t want people to know,
then that’s fine. If you want to take whoever with you to the Grammy’s, as long
as you can get tickets, go ahead. You’re free to do as you please.”
He stood, walking over
to the windows. “So where do things stand with these girls? I’m asking now as a
friend… forget I’m the manager.” He turned towards us, leaning against the
glass, mindless that it might shatter and he would tumble a good twenty stories
down.
“I’ve been thinking…
well, me and Becca have been talking about getting
our own place together when I get back home,” Isaac confided, a grin spreading
across his face. “This is cool that they’re letting up… because I was going to
say something anyway soon. I want to get married… but I didn’t want to have a
hush-hush wedding and all… neither did Becca.” He was
radiating joy at the news; I almost thought he would start dancing around the
room. He was… giddy.
“How about you Taylor?
How’re things with your girlfriend? I met her in New York, didn’t I?” Chris
gave me an apologizing smile as my face darkened briefly. Yeah, he had met her…
been incredibly rude and all too.
“We’re fine… happy
together, ya know? It’s just good news to me that I
don’t have to be so damned careful about going places with her.” And it was
good news to know that next time she was in Tulsa we could go cruising around
town with the top down and go to all my favorite restaurants and all the little
shops. Go into the mall without disguising ourselves and acting as nothing more
than friends. I couldn’t wait to get home and call her and tell her…
There would be no
phone call. I couldn’t call her. She had told me not to. Rather not think about
that though; listen to Zac.
“… serious like I
said. I just started dating her… but that’s cool to know and all. That I don’t
have to worry about her causing issues.” He shrugged lightly, finally just
taking the seemingly annoying elastic from his hair. It was sent sailing neatly
into the trash with a satisfied grin from my brother.
“Well, alright… if you
guys need anything, you know the number.” We all nodded, standing and giving
our assurances that yes, we knew the number, we would call if anything was up.
Yes, we would see him next week when we began working again. Alright, bye, oh,
did he know the name of the street In’N’Out was on?
Yeah, we knew it was by Ross. Thanks anyway.
Miraculously, we found
the fast food joint all on our own. It wasn’t so bad; the sign could be seen
from blocks away. Double-doubles all around, fries, and of course, had to have
milkshakes. Thick, horribly bad for you but still so delicious.
Of course, we had to
eat in the car. Sitting inside was just asking to be hassled. And though we
were all in a fairly good mood from our conversation with Chris, we didn’t want
to be hassled. Nobody does!
The beauty of
fast-food drive-thrus…
California. Got to
love the place. Here it was, nearly Thanksgiving, and still eighty degrees at
seven. Beautiful… it was making sense to me, as it always did once I had been
there long enough. This was why the crumbling streets and buildings don’t
matter. This is why people don’t really give a shit about the earthquakes,
about the smog… the intense congestion that is So Cal… let the noise fade away,
and what’re you left with? That nice, warm breeze, the Santa Ana winds blowing
out of the desert to make the people ignore that elsewhere in the country, the
snow is beginning to fly.
And that, that was why
I threw open the curtains of our bedroom when we got back and stared at the
Hollywood sign without revulsion.
“We’re both
trying to find a place in the sun,
We’ve livid in
the shadows, but doesn’t everyone,
Isn’t it strange
how we all feel a little bit weird sometimes,
Isn’t it hard,
standing in the rain,
You’re on the
verge of going crazy and your heart’s in pain,
No one can hear
though you’re screaming so loud…”
Work, that was all it seemed I
did anymore. Walk over the same stretch of hardwood floor, through the swinging
metal doors,
(Careful
not to hit your head)
back across the hardwood floor
again. Set down the food, thankfully cause it’s so damned hot. Smile, walk off
to the next table. Can’t forget to smile.
But it was over for the night,
and I didn’t have class tomorrow. Of course, tomorrow was Thanksgiving and work
was going to be a bitch. All the lonely people, pissy
beyond belief. As if it were my fault they didn’t have a family dinner to
attend. But I had learned from Skye, who’d waitressed
at the restaurant as long as I could remember, those people also tipped very
nicely. Maybe they felt bad for me that I was working the holiday. I don’t
know.
At least I didn’t have class
today, I thought thankfully as I sank into my pillows. At least I slept this
morning. Even if I did have that damned nightmare, the reason I had been clumsy
at work. Broken not one, but three
dishes. And Skye, giving me those quizzical looks, asking why the hell I had
come to work if I hadn’t made it to school.
But she knew the answer as well
as I did. I went because I couldn’t afford not to. Landing this job had been a
struck of luck, being that it was one of those restaurants where people merrily
plopped down at least eighty dollars for two people. But rarely did just two
people come; there was four or five of them. And that was some nice tips. And I
couldn’t afford to make my boss angry by skipping out again.
There it was, the cause of all of
this. Laying perfectly innocently on top of the two I had already finished lay
the third book, half read. That horrid entry, the realization that Taylor may
have raped somebody…
“Do I really have the strength to
do this?” I whispered quietly to myself, letting my fingertips traced the
lettering. Such a beautiful book from a beautiful person with an ugly past.
But it wasn’t a question of
strength. I had promised Taylor I would read it all… and I knew he was out
there in California, waiting for my call. It was eleven here… only eight there.
I knew he was awake. Maybe just a quick call… something to ease both our minds.
I so wanted to just hear his voice… I needed that. But no, I knew it wasn’t for
the best. Let it be. Keep reading.
Maybe just take tonight off from
this… One night can’t hurt. It won’t set me back too far and I can read in the
morning.
But you’re only half-way through,
a little voice nagged. And you’ve been at this for a week. This is your chance
to make some serious progress! You can talk to Taylor again after it’s
finished!
Talk to Taylor… the luxury that I
had so wished for the last time I had been away within easy reach. But I
stubbornly refused to pick up the phone and call him. I was going to do this
without breaking.
Yes, without breaking. Pick it up
and stop with this nonsense. It’s only Taylor! You know Taylor. You love
Taylor. He loves you.
“Oh, I know him real well,” I couldn’t help but mutter
bitterly to myself. “That’s why I didn’t know about any of this.”
Calm down… take a deep breath.
That’s it, nice and easy, in and out. Alright, pick up the book. Dammit, just pick it up! Not that hard! Alright, open it to
the last page you were reading. Right there, the red ribbon for marking the
place. That’s where you were. Now stop babbling to yourself.
November
of 1999
Tom
and I finally swore to each other never to tell another soul about any of this.
We’re just going to keep things really quiet… the girl hasn’t called Tom’s; she
doesn’t remember anything, according to some of her friends, about being raped.
We had to be careful asking, of course, but we smiled and said we’d heard
rumors, that was all.
And we
had, that wasn’t a lie. Everyone was chattering about it, though no one guessed
that Tom or I had been involved. I’m known in town for sleeping around and
stuff, but so are a lot of other people. And everyone knows that most of the
girls I fuck are sluts themselves…this girl sure as hell wasn’t a slut.
But
that saga having pretty much ended, we’re in New York and I’m getting myself
into more and more trouble. And this time, trouble is known as Zac. Stupid kid
shouldn’t have been going through my things, but he never learns.
This
time, I suppose, this time he learned to stay the hell out of my things. I
caught him, snooping, going through my bag. He found the condoms, he found my
pills, he found all my drugs. And was standing there, shell-shocked when I came
tearing into the room, demanding to know what he thought he was doing. And when
he didn’t answer, I snapped.
I feel
bad now… he’s passed out in his bed from the drugs I gave him to get rid of the
pain. Can’t let Mom find out about this. I’ve already worked up the story that
he got hit with the door accidentally… we were sparring or something, wrestling
and there was an accident. She’ll be mad, but she won’t find out. And I gave
him some aspirin and Night Quill so he’d sleep.
Of
course, Zac’s too scared of me now to go against anything I say. I got him
pretty good… gave him a black eye and quite a few bruises. Dumb kid had it
coming…
God, this just got worse and
worse. First he doesn’t know if he raped some girl, and now he’s beating the
shit out of Zac. And then giving him drugs to kill the pain. Scaring the poor
kid so badly he wouldn’t talk. Lying to his mother… how had he kept it from
Isaac? Did he even have Zac afraid of telling Isaac? Or did he dope Zac so much
that he had to tell him what happened and Zac just believed it?
Of course, as I read on, it
wasn’t just that time he’d beaten Zac. Though it was as I had begun reading the
fourth book the next morning, sleeping for only six hours, that it appeared Zac
had finally had enough…
…can’t
believe he did that to me! Stupid kid, what the fuck does he know? I play those
damned drums better than he does when I get behind them. Maybe that’s what I
should do… HA! Piss off all the fans and disappear behind the drum set. I
wonder what they’d think of that… their little angel hidden behind the drums!
Let Zac try and sing lead… little fuck can’t sing nearly as good as I can!
But
back to what he did. He went through my
things again! This time, though he wasn’t all too successful, he tried to get
into my computer files on the laptop. Fucking kid just doesn’t learn! So I got
him around the neck, not caring that Isaac was there to witness everything. No
one said anything; they knew we’d all be in trouble at this point. No one
wanted to go home and send Tay to rehab! Ha, rehab! I think I’d enjoy the
place. Plenty of fucked up people to mess around with!
But
I’m getting away from my point… what was my point? This shit I’m on makes me so
spacey… so weak too! That’s it, the fight with Zac today.
Little
shit… I got him good a few times. And then he just got so angry and threw me
into the wall, real hard so I couldn’t move. Comes over, yanks my up by my
shirt, the little shit ripped my shirt! Shakes his head and says, “God, you’re
so pathetic Taylor. You’re not even worth fighting with!” And he lets go of me
and I just plop right back to the floor and start laughing.
Oh, it
was just hilarious. Him and Isaac carrying on around me the last few months
like I was dead or something. Oh, far from dead. I am quite alive! And I just
laughed and laughed and laughed until he stormed out. Isaac just looks
disgusted with me and that’s funny too. He’s sneering something behind me,
asking if I’m writing to one of my whores. Of course, I think I’ll just tell
him that he’s the only one who writes to whores! And God, he’s doing that again in his condescending little tone. Lookie! I have a girlfriend, Taylor, I’m not pathetic like
you.
Oh,
but you are Isaac. I have the time of my life no matter where I am and you’ve
just got your little whore back home. Well, no matter where we go, Isaac, I’ve
got my whores waiting.
And
I’ve got all the dope I could ever want! HA! Take that Hollywood! N*Suck and Wackstreet Boys, I got the whores and I got the dope and
anything else. And I’m just an innocent little boy.
I am so happy I’ve never had to
deal with Taylor while he’s drugged. The guy is insufferable. Cocky and
sarcastic. Great combination. Note to self: never let Taylor get wasted on anything when I’m with him, I thought
bitterly as I let the book slide from my fingers, ribbon marking the place. It
was made of black satin this time as opposed to the red of the previous books.
I had another two hours before
work… had to go in early because of the holiday. They needed me for the late
lunch, early dinner rush today. Wouldn’t do to just work the dinner shift. But
Skye would be there today, even if Rachel wouldn’t. I’d joke with her about
bitchy customers and our boss.
I suddenly wanted to hear
Taylor’s voice and turned to the one thing I had: the demo’s he’d carefully put
onto a CD for me. Labeled easily in his scrawl, ‘Demos 2000, Hanson’. I grabbed it and threw it into my CD player
as I started to gather up the mess across my floor.
His voice was soothing,
comforting as it slipped quietly from the speakers. So much soul, I thought, so
much emotion in that husky voice of his. I loved it when he sang, the guitar
and keyboard fading out and just his voice and a slight tapping all that was
left.
And his voice had always been
like this, if I remembered correctly. I had the early CD’s, all of them, even
the rare copies of MMMBop and Boomerang, conveniently
purchased online. Ebay or something like that. And
some ridiculous price. But even then, when he sounded extremely feminine, it
was Taylor’s voice, the same pitch, the same cute pronunciations. The tones of
his voice were the same, the way he spoke and sung. I could picture him, his
small little boy’s body, hardly the six-foot tall, limber guy I knew today,
standing in the garage or wherever, singing his little heart out. Even then,
his eyes were that angelic blue, unmarred at that point by cynicism or sarcasm
or years of Hollywood.
Eyes sliding shut I could see
Taylor as he had been in the airport… gaze sad and watery, but loving. His arms
had been strong, tight as he told me he loved me in a husky whisper.
His voice spilled out of the
speakers, rough cuts of songs that they would polish and perfect and mix
properly in Los Angeles. Maybe I would get to hear something when I was out
there at Christmas. If that plan worked… my mother had said, we’ll see, as to
going there for the holidays. I had left everything about Taylor and his family
out and would continue to do so until I had to tell her.
But back to the task at hand,
girl, get a hold of yourself. You need to shower and get dressed… need to get
ready for a busy night. That’s right, go find your black Doc’s, the comfy ones.
Going to need those tonight.
Make-up, nice and neat, tie back
that wet hair. Don’t let it fall in anybody’s food! Nice and festive tonight,
glitter in my hair, no, the nice glitter… sparkle with the spirit of the
holiday’s or some bull like that. Everything all set, dressed in black pants,
thank God the skirt thing isn’t required anymore, light purple shirt… happy,
happy…. smile, God dammit, smile!
“I’ll be fine. No broken dishes
tonight!” I whispered fiercely to myself, looking into the mirror and trying to
convince myself I looked determined. And happy, cheerful, friendly. “Happy…”
Nevermind that mess, I
told myself as I grabbed my car keys and leather jacket. Cold tonight… might
even snow… wouldn’t that be just peachy? Snow… cold, wet snow to slick the
roads up some more and keep people away. All the work just not adding up to the
nice paycheck promised for working the holiday.
Just get in the car. Stop this
nonsense. And stop thinking about Taylor! You thought about Taylor last night
and you broke things! You can not afford to break more dishes! And no more
entertaining the notion of calling Taylor when you get home.
I mean it, Morgana!
You’re sticking to your word. Don’t think about those books.
Skye arrived just as I was
getting out of my car, her step light and bouncy. “Hi, Morgana!”
she called, waving exuberantly when I looked up. She came running over, feet
pitter-pattering over the wet asphalt. Sure enough, the first flurries were
resting on her eyelashes by the time she got to my side.
“Feeling any better today?” she
asked tentatively as we walked in, her heels clicking lightly against the
wooden boards. Thick, clunky boots… her feet were going to kill.
“Yeah.” I forced a bright smile,
whether for her benefit or mine, I’m not too sure. Maybe if I could convince
myself that I felt ok, I really would. Mind over body… that was how witchcraft
worked, and dammit, I was a witch!
“You’re lying, but I guess that’s
the spirit. Things will get better, I promise. Starting at closing tonight,
when you count your tips. Look, it’s already starting to get really busy. Work,
work, work, equals money and a nice chunk of it!” She squeezed my hand lightly
as she chirped away, hanging her coat and then mine in the staff closet. “Now,
off to slave away we go!”
I couldn’t help but giggle
lightly as she tugged me to my feet, tossing over my apron. Maybe this wasn’t
going to be so hard after all…
Yeah, right… weather’s going to
be cold tonight. Hell just might freeze over too.
* * *
Too tired to try and read more of
that mess now. After midnight and just stumbling through the door. Roads a mess
from the year’s first snow. Reeking of the seafood and of the horrid candles
and the flowers all combined into one disgusting sweaty mess. Too tired to
shower though… didn’t want to wake up the entire house with the water running.
Nicole and Mom would shoot me.
Just want to go to sleep now.
Don’t want to read on and on about Taylor and… well, nevermind
that. I haven’t thought about that mess all night and I’m not starting now.
I’ll read tomorrow morning. When my mind clears… of all the other stuff. That’s
what this is supposed to be about… absorbing and taking it all in… I’ll get to
it.
Sleep now… blessed sleep. But the
dark frightens so many… not me… no, I’m not afraid of the dark… at least I
never used to be…
“Taylor,
stop it! Taylor!” I was sobbing through my shrieks as he glared back at me,
fiercely defiant. There, once more, he hit his kid brother, poor Zac, hair
matted with blood. Why didn’t he stop? Didn’t he know Zac hadn’t taken the
diaries? I had them! He’d given them to
me!
“Taylor!
Taylor, stop it, for the love of God, stop it! You’re going to kill him!” A
voice that wasn’t mine came from my mouth, panicked, high-pitched. Desperately
pleading. Stop, just stop….
“I
suppose I might! Don’t you understand? Morgana, he’s
got to learn!” Taylor replied with a level voice, looking at me with blood
spattered onto his cheeks. No, not his blood. It was his brother’s blood! He
had his brother’s blood on his face! And he couldn’t wipe it off…
Oh…
I think I’m going to be sick… Taylor, please, just wipe off that blood… it’s
your brother’s blood!
“What’re
you staring at Morgana? God dammit,
what the fuck are you looking at?” He was up on his feet now, my shoulders
tugged at over and over as he jostled me about. Then it started. His hand came
down across my cheeks and Zac’s blood was on my face.
“No!
Not on me!” I was hysterical now, clawing at my cheek. No, Zac’s blood was not
going to be on me. Taylor’s brother! Not Taylor’s brother! “God, Taylor, the
blood… there’s so much and it’s all over you… you have your brother’s blood on
your face!”
And
then I was sick, just sick. Contorting to the pain that rose in my stomach and
the stiff contractions of all my muscles, I threw up. And was sick again in
disgust as my vomit grazed Zac’s bare feet.
“Can’t
take it?” Taylor taunted, still now, face horribly contorted into a grimace.
Then he was in front of me again, pushing me down to the ground, beside Zac…
his blood was beneath me, still warm, sticky, as Taylor forced me down.
Yes,
just keep hitting me, I found myself thinking dully as his hand came down
again. Let me and your brother die like that whore in New York.
“You
are that whore in New York, Morgana.
Don’t you realize where we are? The Big Apple! And Zac took my diaries and gave
them to you and now he’s dead!” My face, grabbed roughly and mindless of the
pains that burned it, was yanked to the left where Zac lay. His cocoa eyes, unblinking,
unmoving, stared back and a blood-curling screen erupted from my throat, one
that could rival those scream-queens of the horror movies. The old ones… not
the teen ‘horror’ movies of late. The classics… but who has time to think about
horror movies when staring into your boyfriend’s brother’s dead face?
I
was sick again, the stench of blood and vomit overpowering my senses and then
there was all the putrid filth beside me, Zac’s burgundy hair sopping it up. A
shudder ran through me and I turned away, Taylor’s death-grip on my face having
been released.
“God,
Taylor, stop this!” He was holding me down now, peering into my eyes with his
crazed expression all that I could find in eyes that used to mirror exquisite
love.
“I
wonder… could I kill you too? I’ve killed my brother? How about you…? My
girlfriend… imagine the headlines, Morgana, the whole
world will know about you now! ‘Teen star kills brother and girlfriend, motive:
Just for the hell of it!’ What do you think of that one?” Maniacal laughter erupted
into the still room as he threw his head back.
“Taylor…”
Tears, streaking in mascara stained rivets, ran in every direction as his
fingers left my wrist and started to work the buttons of my shirt open. “God,
you said you loved me… why are you doing this?”
“But
don’t you see?” Shirt ripped, useless now. Victoria’s Secret bra, blood-stained
in Zac’s blood now. He was having a little difficulty with the skirt, because
his hands were so slippery. Slippery with his brother’s blood!! “I’m doing this because I love you, Morgana.
You’re my little whore, don’t you see? But you messed up and I’ve got to punish
you for that. So you’ll never do it again.”
“Of
course I won’t! You’re going to kill me, Taylor! You’re going to fucking kill
me! Of course I won’t be able to do anything again!” I shrieked in utter terror
as the skirt was ripped away. That skirt was from Arden B, I thought dimly in
that far away place where I still thought about my clothes. Not like it was
going to matter anymore!
“I
know.” He was insane, that was it. Just purely fucked up in the head. But then
all I knew was that he was raping me again and I couldn’t gasp for air because
his blood-soaked fingers were digging deep into my throat…
I awoke with a tremendous gasp,
sheets soaked through and twisted. Quickly pushing them away, I raced into the
bathroom and was sick all over again as the tears came in heaving gasps that
filled the silent house.
“People
say that we’re sweethearts,
They say nothing in the world could tear
us apart,
Well I don’t know about you,
But this thing we’re going through is tearin’ me in two...”
Far away, the phone
was ringing off the hook. My cell-phone, tucked away under the console in a
pile of jackets and bags, begging to be answered.
I snatched it up
quickly, hoping that it was Morgana with some bit of
good news. Didn’t care that in the corner, Isaac shot me a disapproving glare
or that Zac paused in toying with a lava lamp to roll his eyes. But it was
disappointment that filled my voice when I was answered by a female voice, most
definitely not Morgana.
“Taylor, this is
Nicole… Morgana’s sister…”
Momentary joy as I
quickly strode into the hallway, door quickly shutting behind me. Ran down the
hall and slunk into the stairwell where I could talk in peace. Then worry as I
wondered why the hell Nicole was calling me.
“I… is everything ok
with you and my sister?” She sounded concerned, troubled. And a bit relieved
that I was talking to her. I sighed
heavily, trying to come up with an answer. Because honestly, I didn’t really
know the answer. “Taylor, you still there?”
“Yeah, I’m here.”
Pause. “I’m not sure how things are with Morgana. I
haven’t talked to her since she the day after she went home.” Silence on the
other end.
“So… you don’t know
what’s wrong with her?”
“I didn’t even know
something was wrong.”
“Oh, well, I guess if
you don’t know, nobody will.”
“Wait, Nicole… I don’t
know what’s wrong, but please tell me… I miss her, ya
know?” I couldn’t believe I was talking to her sister… and something was wrong.
Very, very wrong, from the sound of Nicole’s voice.
“Well, why don’t you
just call her if you miss her?” A bit of reproach in her tone. “I mean, you
know the number and she’s been home.”
“She won’t talk to
me.”
“Why?”
“It’s a long story.
She’s got some things of mine that she needed to go through without talking to
me all the time… So I haven’t talked to her in a while. Please, Nicole, tell me
what’s wrong with her…” The dread was welling up as I realized exactly what was
wrong. She was reading the diaries… and didn’t like what she was finding.
“She’s throwing up all
the time, Taylor. Almost every night… and she’s just so ragged looking, always
has a headache. But then she’s up every night so late, all hunched over
something in her bed.” Tears rising in the trembling voice. “I don’t know
what’s going on, Taylor, and you were the only one I thought could tell me.”
She’s not going to
talk to you if you call her, so forget that. Just forget it right now, I told
myself sternly as I thought for a moment. “Alright,” I finally began, taking a
deep breath, “can you give her a message for me? Tell her I love her and that
she doesn’t have to read that stuff. Tell her my past is just that… the past. I
love her… and would never hurt her. Make sure she knows I love her… oh, and the
number out here at our place. 949-713-5454. Make sure she gets that… tell her I
wish she would call. I miss her.” I hung up before Nicole could answer. I had
never exposed so much to anyone besides my family or Morgana.
I hardly knew Nicole…
Back into the studio
now. Have to face the wrath of my brothers. Going to get my cell-phone taken
away for the rest of the time we’re here…
But to my surprise,
Isaac only asked softly if I was alright and nodded slightly when I replied.
Then he went back to strumming out some chords. Zac didn’t even so much as
glance at me funny.
Well that was most
definitely odd.
But who cares about it
being odd? I thought miserably as I flopped back onto the overstuffed couch,
rugged and worn from years of being jammed into the small studio.
I hadn’t told Nicole
everything. I knew what was wrong and it was just as I’d feared it would be.
She was disgusted by me, most likely, and hurt… disgusted to explain the
constant vomiting, hurt to explain the zombie-like state.
I just wished I could
be with her… even if her words hurt, as least I would be able to be with her.
To try and console her with gentle arms and soft kisses.
“Hey, Tay?” I snapped
out of my thoughts as I noticed Isaac standing in front of me. The guitar lay
against the wall and his hands were stuffed into his pockets. “I’m going for
coffee. Wanna come?”
“Sure.” I shrugged as
I stood, brushing my hair free of my eyes. “I’ve got nothing better to do.”
As the door shut
behind us, sealing off nosy brothers and record executives. “So, Taylor, who
was on the phone?”
“Morgana’s
sister,” I mumbled back, toying absently with the silver around my neck. “She,
uh, she wanted to know what was wrong with her sister… ‘cept
I couldn’t help, cause I don’t know.”
“She hasn’t called.”
“Right.” I shook my
head as we entered the small elevator and Isaac reached out for the button
marked with a large L. “I’m kinda scared… ya know, that I haven’t heard from her… I might’ve really
done it this time, Ike.”
He was silent as we
stepped into the cool lobby, boots hardly making a noise on the marble floors.
It wasn’t until we’d stepped into the brilliant heat and light of the LA street
that he spoke again. “Tay, can I ask you something?” He waited for my nod
before continuing. “Why did you give her your diaries?”
“I wanted her to
know.”
“Yeah, but why?”
“Because I love her.
Because I don’t want to hide anything from her.” My voice dropped to a soft
whisper as the truth of what I had been doing dawned on me. “Because I’m so
afraid to lose her that I want to know for sure she won’t leave me because of
the past… because if she can still love me after knowing all the horrible
things I’ve done, then I have that guarantee…”
Isaac looked satisfied
with my answer as he opened the door to the Starbucks that was all of three
doors down from the studio. “Ya know she loves you,”
he said quietly as we waited for our coffees. Me and my black poison, as my
mother called it, Isaac and his melted ice-cream coffee. “And she has a good
head on her shoulders… look, if me and Rebecca can survive our problems… and lemme tell you, what I did was damn near unforgivable… you
and Morgana will be fine.”
Coffee collected from
the wide-eyes blond that had realized she was serving Hanson, we walked away,
sipping at the deliciously hot, even if overpriced, treat.
“What did happen?” If
these streets were alright to talk about my problems, then they sure as hell
were private enough to discuss his.
“Taylor, you’ve got to
swear to keep his quiet. Morgana already knows, so
that’s alright… but nobody! I mean it Taylor. Not Tom. Not Kira.
No one.”
“Alright, alright, I
get the point!”
He sighed heavily,
waiting until we had entered the elevator. Now alone, he spoke, barely audible
over the low hum of the machinery. “Rebecca… she got pregnant.”
“What?!” I looked at
him in total disbelief. No way… how the hell had he managed to hide this? And
why had he never told Mom? God, she was going to be devastated when she found
out that Isaac was about to have a son or daughter and he hadn’t told her
until… wait a second, Taylor, Rebecca
didn’t look pregnant at Halloween.
“Judging by the look
in your eyes, you know what she decided.” His face darkened slightly, the bones
in his jaw clenching together for a moment. “And I didn’t take it so well. I called
her a bitch… I… I hit her. I mean, she hit me first, but it was still wrong. I
shouldn’t have laid a hand on her.” He shook his head as we stepped onto the
plush carpeting of the studio hallway.
“But anyway, we just
never said anything. She didn’t want it from the beginning… and Mom can never
find out about this, Taylor.” He stopped outside the closed door, gripping my
arm tightly and his eyes boring into mine. “You know how she feels about that.
No one else in the family. Zac will slip up. This can’t get back to her!”
“You’ve got my word,
Isaac,” I assured him, sipping some more of my caffeinated drink. “I’ve got my
secrets from her too.”
He nodded, releasing
my arm and opening the door. He knew I wouldn’t open my mouth. I trusted him;
he trusted me. I had told him everything I had done; he had just told me a
secret that could get him disowned. We had each other.
We didn’t leave the
studio until late, having come upon a spark of creative genius while downing
the last of our caffeine. (Zac had his Dr. Pepper to go along with mine and
Isaac’s coffee.)
But when we finally
reached the house in the hills, I tore up the stairs, racing for the answering
machine. No messages. Dammit.
“Call her yourself.
Who says you have to listen to her?” Isaac said as he stepped into the room,
hitting the switch for the lights and nearly blinding me.
“Ike, you know she
won’t talk to me.”
“Try anyway. You have
nothing to lose.”
“Alright…” I sighed as
I picked up the phone. I hoped this would work. I missed her so much… just the
sound of her voice would make me feel so much better.
“Hello?”
“Morgana!”
My heart leapt as I leaned back into the soft couch, almost envisioning it
drawing me in. “Hey!”
“Taylor.” A twinge of
fear mixed into relief. “God, it’s so nice to hear your voice.”
“You know you can call
me anytime… I left a message with Nicole earlier,” I informed her, hoping she
already knew. I wanted her to know what I had told her sister, how much I loved
her, how much I missed her.
“I know… Taylor, I
shouldn’t be talking to you.” Silence, broken only by ragged breathing. “I… I
have to read these. I’m almost done. One more… I’m past the worst of it, I
think… passed the stuff with that girl…”
“Nicole called me… she
said that you weren’t doing so great. What’s going on, Morgana?”
“Taylor…” Twinge of
annoyance, but with me or Nicole, I didn’t know. “I’m… I’m having nightmares.
They’re about you and…” She broke off, words catching in her throat. A soft sob
cut loose over the phone, and then silence. “They’re making me sick… I’m just…
it’s nerves.”
“You want to tell me a
little bit more about these nightmares?” I got up now, going outside. I didn’t
want my family eavesdropping on this conversation. Though I didn’t really mind when Isaac
followed me out the door, taking a seat at a respectful distance.
“Tay… I’ve dreamed so
many horrible things. I dreamed about that night on the beach… but it wasn’t
Matt raping me, it was you! And I dreamt that you killed Zac… and, you, you
raped me right next to his body, laying in his blood! And…” Her voice broke off
and she was sobbing uncontrollably.
I felt all the blood
drain from my face as her words sank in. She was dreaming about me raping her?!
About killing my kid brother? Well, I could see why she was throwing up all the
time! And why her emotions were being fucked with.
But inside I was hurt…
unbelievably hurt. She thought I would hurt her! Maybe not knowing it, but
aren’t dreams supposed to reflect what’s hidden inside? Did she think I would
hurt her? I had never raised a hand to her! Ever! I tried to be compassionate…
I had opened myself up to her like I had to no one before! I never had told
Isaac half the things I had told her.
“Morgana,
Jesus, I would never hurt you. I love you…” My only answer was her sobs,
wretched and tugging at my heart with each tortured breath.
Finally, an answer. A
soft answer whispered into the phone before the click that signaled she was
gone. “I know Taylor. But I’m scared… and I need more time. I love you, Taylor,
but don’t call me again.”
I dropped the phone
into the grass, not even remembering to click it off. Didn’t notice when Isaac
walked over and did it for me. Or when he put his arms around me. Or even that
I was crying until I realized his shirt was damp from my tears.
* * *
“So what did she say?”
It was hours later
now, long after one in the morning, yet we were still sitting by the pool. I
had disentangled myself as soon as my tears had cleared. Embarrassed that I had
cried to Isaac, I sat alone in a lawn chair, staring up at the few stars
visible beyond the haze of smog.
“She told me that she
was scared… And not to call again. She told me… She’s having nightmares about
me. Me… Christ, Isaac, she’s dreaming that I’m raping her.” There, the words
were out. I had said it to another human being… Made it true, didn’t it?
Isaac was silent, yet
it was a silence I was grateful for. I didn’t need his sympathy; I just needed
him to listen. I needed to talk to someone, someone who knew what was going on…
And Isaac was the only one who knew everything. Zac had gotten the abbreviated
version.
“Maybe I shouldn’t
have given her… Maybe some things are just better left without saying…”
“Rebecca didn’t want
the kid from the beginning,” Isaac began, his voice soft and thoughtful. “But
she didn’t tell me that. She acted like she was happy to be pregnant. She
seemed happy when I mentioned to her that we might as well go ahead with our
plan to get a place together like we’d been talking about for so long. But all
along, she didn’t want it… The week we were in New York, when you met Morgana… it was the week before that she told me about…
told me about the kid.
“I know you’re looking
at me, like, what’s your point. Hold on… I’m getting there.
“I was thrilled, ya know? I’m going to have my own kid. Mom would have been
so happy to be a grandmother… look at all the kids she keeps having! My kid
would have grown up with its aunt! But, and here is where my point is, Rebecca
let me believe that she wanted the child. She hid the truth from me… and in the
end, it caused more pain. If she had come to me in the beginning and told me,
look, I’m pregnant, but I really don’t want this, I would have been upset, yes.
But I wouldn’t have been as upset. Because I wouldn’t have had time to become
attached to the idea.
“And so, to relate
this to what you’re going through, here’s my point. She’s upset with you
because the past is horrible. And you can’t take back any of what you did. But
you are being completely honest with her. That’s going to count for something.
She’s got to see that you trust her enough to let her in that much. And your
actions are going to build trust in her… it’s honesty, yes, honesty that hurts,
but it’s honesty.”
He sat back then,
staring into the pool. The winds still whipped up through the hills, rippling
the water faintly. His eyes were filled with guilt and I imagined he was
reliving each and every one of his fights with Rebecca. I remembered the
screaming matches well enough; I was sure they were burned all the more keenly
into his mind.
“So you think she’ll
get over it? Whatever it is that’s hurting her so badly… it’ll pass?” I asked
quietly, letting one hand fall to the grass and weave invisible designs.
“It’ll pass. She loves
you… she… she’s a smart girl. Very caring… I talked to her that morning… when she
got up and bought you those donuts?” I smiled at the memory that came filtering
into my mind upon his words. Yeah, I remembered that morning. She had looked so
cute, cheeks flushed from the early morning heat… it had been so sweet…
“… been at Becca’s all night,” Isaac’s words cut in as I realized he
had resumed speaking. “And I was just sitting on the couch when she came in.
And she listened to me pour out my emotions… gave me a hug and told me it was
alright to cry. Then ran off to your bed.” Isaac’s smile was sad, wistful as I
squinted to see him in the darkness. “I was so jealous of you that morning
Taylor. Oh, and by the way, sorry about the glass in New York Labor Day… I
shouldn’t have thrown that. And I shouldn’t have told you that you didn’t deserve
your happiness. You deserve it more than anyone I know.”
“Thanks Ike,” I
replied, blinking rapidly as I recalled Morgana in my
arms at either of the times he mentioned. Wasn’t going to cry again in front of
Isaac. “I’m sorry for what I said too… it was hurtful.”
“Oh, you mean the
comment about going back to your loving girlfriend in your bed? Eh, don’t worry
about it. I deserved that.” He laughed wryly, getting up and glancing at the
sky. “I’m going to sleep. You coming?”
I shook my head. “Nah,
I think I’ll stay out here for a while. Thanks for listening Ike… it means a
lot.”
“Don’t worry about it.
Night Tay.”
“Night Ike,” I called
back, settling back into the lawn chair. Alone now, as the glass door slid shut
smoothly behind me. Alone to reflect, to absorb, as Morgana
might say.
Well, it had been
quite the shock to finally find out what had happened with Isaac and Rebecca.
Where I could see why Morgana hadn’t told me, I was
still a tad bit hurt. That would have been my family, and she hadn’t told me.
But she had promised Rebecca, so I could also see why she had refused.
But it had still been
a shock. Isaac could have been a father! I could have had a little niece or
nephew running around. And no doubt, they would have gotten married. There
would have been a beautiful wedding, and I would have taken Morgana.
Hell, as close as her and Rebecca had become, I wouldn’t have been surprised if
she had been the Maid of Honor.
But just because they
weren’t having the kid didn’t necessarily mean I should count out the chance of
them getting married. Isaac was just as love-sick over her as he had been
before, if not even more so. And it was blatantly obvious that she was still as
much in love with him as ever. It wouldn’t be long before she had a ring on her
hand… especially since we wouldn’t have to fight with the record company
anymore.
I sighed. It was
getting late… maybe Isaac was right in going to sleep. We had to go into the
studio again the next day. And as soon as I stood up, the fatigue my emotions
had brought me that day took hold. If only my sleep hadn’t been so damned
restless that night and left me more tired than I had been when I went to bed…
“…And the sun
goes down,
I watch you slip
away,
And the sun goes
down,
I walk into the
waves,
And I knew, love
would tear you apart,
And I knew, the
darkest secret of your heart…”
His phone call hadn’t helped any.
The dreams returned just as soon as my eyes slid shut, exhausted from reading.
The same two dreams, appearing in new and twisted ways, each more gruesome than
the rest.
If anything, hearing his voice
over the line had only made matters worse. I missed him more than I cared to
admit, missed talking to him. Most of all, I missed falling asleep in his arms.
Sleeping with his intense heat keeping me warm all through the night…
But there it was… the final
chapters in this nightmare. Hours before I had to go to work… wait, I didn’t
have to work tonight. Sunday was my night off. Sunday and Monday nights. I
could finish and have time to call Taylor. Call Taylor…
But what was I going to say to
him? I had finally gotten my mother to agree to the holidays in So Cal, so I
supposed I could share that bit of information with him. Just over a month
before we could see each other again… and even then… I was scared. Terrified,
really, but I knew it was the dreams doing it to me.
This
too shall pass.
Don’t think about any of that.
It’s all in the future. That’s not important right now. Finishing this is.
You’ve only got another month of so to work through. Then it’s over… who knows…
maybe Taylor wrote about you in here. Maybe half of what you’re about to read
is his wonderful words about you.
And so I went down the stairs,
grabbing a steaming cup of coffee before returning to my room. Opened the book
to the ribbon as black as my coffee and started reading again.
June
2000
We’re
home for a little while now. I’ve decided to lay off the drugs while we’re
here. I’m getting a little sick of it all… the not being able to remember what
happened to me the night before, or where I am… I don’t like the lack of
coherency I end up with. Isaac approves greatly of my decision, (he watched in
approbation as I dumped all kinds of stuff down the drain). I’ve still got my
cigarettes and alcohol.
And of
course I’ve got my sluts.
Isaac
decided to share his opinion with me again tonight, as if I haven’t heard it a
million times before. Or like I care anymore now than I have all the other
times. But anyway, he tells me that he thinks I’m addicted to sex. Yeah, like
there is such a thing. I’m not addicted to it. I just love it. And I can get
it, so why not?
Isaac’s
probably just jealous. Maybe Becca’s not that great
in bed… Oh well! Not my problem. I mean, I would gladly hook him up, but he
doesn’t want to… and I’m not on that great terms with Zac… haven’t really been
since the first time I caught him going through my things. But we’re home now
and he can lock himself in his room and I can lock myself in mine. So we’re
even…
June
2000
Just
found out we’re going to New York in two weeks. Some promotional thing or
another. I’ve got a real good feeling about this trip. Something amazing is
going to happen-
If you only knew, Taylor, I
thought with a soft smile.
-while
I’m there. Not too sure what it’ll be… but it should be fun. Maybe I’ll find
some new and interesting whore. HA!
But in
all honesty, I’m starting to get tired of it. I… I kind of just want to have
what Isaac’s got. Him and Becca are so happy… and
he’s always got her in his room. Now there’s something I envy…
I
don’t let them in. Ever. No one in my room. It’s the one private place I’ve got
left… I need that to myself. Sure, they bitch about being on the couch or on
the floor or whatever. Want to go in my room. But I won’t let them. Not in my
bed! I don’t want their sweat on my sheets… I don’t want them in my sheets! My
room is mine.
Maybe
I’ll just stop altogether. Two years of this mess… I don’t think I can handle
much more. My throat is starting to ache a lot more and that scares me. My
voice is more important to me than anything else. Without it, everything as I
know it disappears. My career, my passion.
Yeah…
maybe I’ll just stop. It would make my brothers so much happier. Maybe Zac and
I could get along again… I was an asshole to him one too many times, yes… but
maybe he can forgive me.
Even
if I don’t deserve it.
I was reeling as I paused in my
reading to sip at my coffee. So he had been thinking of stopping all of it
before he even met me. And it all made sense, filling in the peculiar, nagging
thoughts that had filtered through my mind. He had been clean the night we’d talked. And it seemed he had fallen
for me just a little too easily if he was as involved in all of it as he’d
seemed to be.
So he’d been working on being
sober before I even came into the picture. He’d wanted to stop; I’d given him
the reason. He’d done it almost entirely on his own, I realized suddenly. And
that was damn near amazing.
Maybe I had been… over-reacting a
little. Yes, Taylor had fucked up royally. But it was in the past, wasn’t it?
Wasn’t that one of the things he’d made Nicole scrawl done in the novel he
called a note she’d left for me?
I couldn’t help the tiny shivers
of fear that ran down my spine at the thought of the dreams. The image of Zac’s
lifeless eyes was burned into my memory forever, the scent of the blood and
vomit all twisted into one foul odor… I don’t think I would ever forget any of
it.
But I could also recall Taylor’s
beautiful eyes gazing so lovingly at me when I woke up many mornings in his
bed. I could remember so distinctly the scent that I loved to breathe in as I
lay back and let him deposit soft kisses all along my shoulders and neck. Hear
his soft voices singing songs that never made it to paper; they were intimate
and only for me in those precious hours we had together.
Best not to think of any of it
now. Should just finish reading these entries. Look, they switch over to July…
he must have skipped a few days…
July
2000
So
glad to have found this… I thought I’d lost this book! Of course, it was only
that I had hidden it, apparently so well I fooled myself as well. Ah, well,
it’s back in my hands now.
We’re
leaving in a few days for New York… And screw trying to quit! I just don’t have
anything decent here! That’s why it’s losing its appeal. I need something
stronger, something that’ll really kick me in the ass.
And of
course, the girls in New York are some of the best. It’ll be great…
Something
funny going on with Rebecca and Isaac. They’ve disappeared off someplace a
couple of times without so much as a word. They did it the other day when I had
what’s her name over… like I remember her name! There’s too many to keep track
of them all by name. I do remember she had very full lips and long hair. Blond
I think.
But it
any case, even I can see that something is not right with those two. And when I
can notice things, as fucked up as I am, then there’s got to be something up. I
would ask Zac… but maybe not. We’re doing a little better now… speaking civilly
and all… but I’m not sure it’s time to merrily take each other out places yet…
Maybe I won’t go after all the drugs in New York…
July
2000
Well,
we’re on the plane now… Didn’t have time to write in this the last few days…
Too much running around all over the place. It’s been insane…
But
the plane’s about twenty minutes from landing at JFK. Which means that people
are waking up and I don’t even know why I bothered taking this out.
July
2000
In the
hotel now… I don’t know why, but I don’t really feel like going out girl
hunting tonight. Don’t feel like getting shit-faced either. Granted I helped
myself to one of the bottles in the mini-bar and polished off the mini-sized
bottle of that Khalua Mudslide stuff. Quite tasty…
I
think I’ll just chill here in the hotel and laugh at Zac and Isaac. They’re
playing this Monopoly game that’s been ongoing for quite some time. Kind of
amusing to watch them. Zac’s responding to my effort, finally, and loosening up
with me a lot. He’s not so stiff around me… relaxing I suppose. Maybe he’s
noticed I’m not so big on the drugs as I was. Or the girls… maybe it’s not that
I don’t have good shit… Maybe I really am just losing my taste for it all…
July
2000
Been
writing so little these days… not much to say, not much really going on… I went
and got laid… same thing as normal.. Except this time, I knew I wasn’t into it…
I mean, yeah, I came and everything… fucked her good. But it just wasn’t that…
great, I guess. Something was missing.
Or
maybe I just realized that something was missing all along.
I just
feel so lonely these days. I’m sitting out on the roof of the Plaza, writing
away and hoping no one comes up here and yells at me to leave. Probably won’t
though. After all, I am Taylor Hanson. Yea for me.
But
still, sitting up here I can see everything… I feel so insignificant… I mean, I
know that half the people in this city know who I am and I don’t have a clue
who they are. I know I’m one of the “beautiful people” and shouldn’t bitch
about being insignificant. But I feel so alone… even the whore that I just
fucked can’t fulfill anything in me anymore. .
And I
don’t know right now whether to be grateful that I’m finally losing interest in
these activities that could cost me my life among other things… or to long for
the time when some random girl and her body could fill me.
But
then again, maybe it was just a little fallacy that I was whole with those
girls. Or maybe it was that I used to be so doped out I didn’t know what I was
feeling. Maybe now that the numbness is wearing off and I can feel things
again, I’ve just come to see that it was really a lonely thing.
I
mean, yeah, I’ve had my lonely nights all through this. They’re all accounted
for in the pages beneath what I’m writing right now. But it wasn’t the same
feeling I’ve got right now… now that I’m sober.
Not a single drop of anything today, unless you count the cigarettes.
Maybe I should just give those up too.
But
someone’s bound to come up here and discover me at any moment and I would much
rather keep it secret that I come here. That way I won’t be bothered… it’ll be
my little refuge.
July
2000
It’s
over. I’m done… and I mean it this time. And I’ve got my reason. I’ve got a
reason that tops all others. Amazingly enough, my reason is a girl.
Tonight,
this morning, whatever time it currently makes our time spent together… I
talked with the most amazing person. She understands all my frustrations with
the music business… she seems to have quite the tortured soul herself.
He knew. I gazed at the
handwriting in amazement, sipping at the now cold coffee. He knew from the
second he met me. A tortured soul? Well, that certainly was an accurate way of
putting it.
So it had only been the day
before he met me that he slept with the last of his whores… quite a while since
he’d shot up on anything. Yeah, the faint smell of cigarettes had clung to him,
but that had been it.
Just like that it had been over
and he had thrown it all out.
It didn’t erase any of the other
bullshit that he had done in the past, no… but it gave it something to hold it
up against. Taylor had fucked up over and over, in ways that I never imagined
possible. But there he was now, pleading with me to accept him for who he is
today. The things he went through have made him who he is.
It dawned on me quite suddenly…
the guy he was today, I loved with all my heart. And that was what the result
of his past was. And the Taylor I had, I wouldn’t change for anything.
And it wasn’t like he could
change any of what he’d done. It was over, and there were so many things I
would change if I could go back knowing then what I know now. Undoubtedly,
Taylor felt the same way.
But the entries remaining in the
diary almost all pertained to me; it was obvious from the dedication the
writing took on the subject of me the first night. Pages and pages recounting
our conversations. But out of all of it, there was one startling entry that was
the part of Taylor’s feelings for me I had never even known existed…
July
2000
I have
to leave New York tomorrow. Going back home… and while I should be ecstatic to
have my own bed back, to be able to call up Tom or Kira
or whomever and do what I want, I don’t want to leave. And for the first time I
can remember, it’s not because of some drugs or because I found a hot girl to
fuck.
Though
I have found an amazingly hot girl… she’s so beautiful… These eyes that are
just bottomless and so, so green. I wonder if she’s Irish… Her cross, come to
think of it, is in the Celtic style. I should ask her about that some time. If
I ever remember.
I told
her that I was in love with her before I left her room… I’m not sure what
affect the confession is having on her and I’m kinda
scared… isn’t that something that always gets fucked up in relationships?
People start in with the ‘L word’ and then it just goes downhill from there.
But
I’m sure of it! There’s none of that nagging doubt in the back of my mind. I
have fallen so hard for this girl…
There
is one other possibility that I haven’t cared to entertain. But here, in these
pages that no one else will ever read, I have to think about it. Because I haven’t
ever been very good at hiding things from myself and being sober has taken what
little ability I had to do it away. But it’s worth it, I guess.
The
thing that scares me about this is that I’m so convinced I love her… yet I’ve
only known her for a week…I don’t doubt what I’m feeling because I know damn
well what I’m feeling… but I wonder how I can feel like this so soon.
It is
an actual emotional effect she’s had on me because my throat tightens when I
think about leaving her. Me, the one who never cries. I just want to be with
her.
But
the frightening thing about it is my conversation a few minutes ago with Isaac
and Zac. Well, more Ike then Zac… he seemed so iffy on giving me a straight
answer on anything and so was Zac. And it finally hit me: they’re afraid I’m
going to get hurt by this. That the first time I ever let myself feel anything,
I’m going to get my heart ripped out.
And
I’m scared they might be right.
It was the last entry of the
book, scrawled in hasty letters. It was also the only entry in any of the books
that the ink was smudged in some places, the paper crinkling. He’d been crying.
Well there was a series of his
thoughts I had never known about. Yeah, I’d known I was the first girl he’d
cared about… and I also thought that when he’d confessed his love it had just
been because he felt something for me and that was new to him.
But looking at all of it now,
months later, the realization that he knew damn well what he was talking about
hit like a ton of bricks. He had been serious that night when he told me he
believed in love at first sight, in people being meant for each other. It
hadn’t been any sort of pick-up line at all… especially considering it had been
months before he had gotten me into bed. Even though at that point I had been
more than willing.
It was finished…. the books were
read and the truth was known. Taylor and all his sins… lust being the worst of
them and having consumed most of his energy. Lust for drugs, lust for women.
All of them recorded here and imprinted forever in the recesses of my mind.
I took out the letter he had
written for me, the one that had been carefully lain on top of the volumes
while resting on his bed. Ran my fingers over his signature… and then suddenly
remembered that he had called these volumes ‘Satin Lace’ and said the meaning
on the metaphor was in it someplace… how had I miss that?
I grabbed the first one up from
the floor, and much to my chagrin, there it was, printed smoothly into the back
cover in a black ink.
Satin Lace…
Life IS Satin Lace.
Full of all these intricacies and all these places where you can slip through
the cracks and into an oblivion you never knew existed. But of course, you
don’t pay attention to all the gaping holes. The lace is made of satin, and
it’s soft and beautiful. You think you could never fall through any of the ugly
holes, gaps that are rather over-looked than carefully roped off. And so is
life. Satin Lace, the volumes of my life that document all the times I’ve
fallen through the beauty into the lonely darkness, unsuspecting and unprepared
for any of it.
“Moon
covered, determined to find,
To find my place of hiding,
Try to detach, try to decrease,
To make it easier (on me)…
“Do
you feel the same anyway,
Now
you’ve come,
Hold
yourself cause no-one will,
I’ll
be there to...”
“Fuck,” I whispered
softly to myself as I hit the wrong notes, again. For the third time in a row.
“Yeah, do it again,” I called to the voice that came through the speakers;
tried to ignore the glares Zac shot at me.
Why couldn’t I just
sing this damn song? Why was it so hard for me to sing all of a sudden? Singing
was my life! That was the only life I knew! And I couldn’t do it!
I got it right the
nest time, yet it was only by closing my eyes, hands glued to the headphones,
and just singing my heart out. Forget my usual habit of snapping my fingers or
letting my hands wander to the heights of the notes.
“Well, Jesus, Taylor,
once you got it, you sure as hell got it! That was great,” one of the
technicians called out to me as I stomped out of the studio. Yeah, whatever he
says, I thought bitterly with a nod to the man. I was less than thrilled with
my “stellar” performance.
“What was wrong with
you?” Isaac hissed softly as we left. It had been the last song of the evening
and now we were all headed back to the house in the hills. But probably not
without our habitual stop at In’N’Out.
“I don’t know. Just
leave me alone, alright?” I grumbled back, tugging my leather jacket sharply
over my shoulders and taking the stairs instead of the elevator. I could use
the walk to cool my temper. Nothing like running down a dozen flights of
stairs.
When I finally slammed
into the concrete floor at the base, I was almost grateful for the sharp jab
traveling first into my ankles, then up my legs. Good. Maybe a nice sharp pain
will snap me out of this stupor.
It was just another of
many Morgana-induced dazes. Isaac knew it. Zac knew
it. Shit, I wouldn’t be surprised if that damn technician knew it, with all the
times I’d been instructed to just ‘put her out’ of my mind.
Yet they still asked
me what was wrong! Did they like rubbing in the salt?
The door to the
stairwell flew open when I crashed into it. Waiting for me with arms crossed
and disapproving expressions were my two loving brothers.
“Have fun?” Isaac
snapped, ushering us all out the door onto the darkening LA street.
“Yeah, I did.” I knew
I sounded childish as I argued with him, but I didn’t care. I just sighed as I
waited for him to open the car door, letting my eyes wander over the streets.
And there, crossing
the street just down the block, was one amazingly hot girl. I shook my head and
stopped gawking at her. The days were I could drown my frustrations in the skin
of some nameless beauty were gone. Besides, if I forced myself to think about
it, that wasn’t what I wanted anyway; I wanted to drown my disappointments in Morgana’s emerald eyes.
Get in the car,
Taylor, I thought in disgust. Why was I looking back to my past? That was what
had gotten me in trouble in the first place!
“Tay, you hungry?”
“Huh?” I looked over
at Isaac, sitting up. I shouldn’t lean so heavily against the window. I was
getting it dirty and the door might fall out. Then I would be nothing more than
a blond and burgundy sticky mess.
“Are you hungry?”
“Nah.”
“Zac?”
“Not really.”
“Good, cause I wasn’t
either. We’ll just go back to the house.” Neither Zac nor I paid any attention
to Isaac as he announced this decision.
The thought of food
was actually quite near bordering on repulsive. Maybe I’d go up to the
reservoir when we got back. No, wait, it closed at sunset. Screw that plan…
maybe I’ll just go running on the road. Nah, too windy… liable to get hit; Mom’ll never let me.
I sighed heavily as we
started into the hills, leaving behind the gaudy lighting and heavy traffic for
the winding roads. It would be fun to do ninety on this road, I thought with a
glance at the speedometer. Isaac was driving, so of course it was hovering just
under forty. I rolled my eyes at this latest observation and went back to
watching the now familiar homes rise from the thick walls and heavy plant life.
Chilly here in the
winter, but chilly means the temperature might be dipping to a frigid fifty or
so. Of course there’s flowers everywhere, trees never losing their leaves. Of
course, the monstrous palm trees were all lined up in a neat row along the
freeways and dotting people’s lawns. We had oak trees and acorns; these
people had palm trees and their sticky dates. We pinched our feet and they felt
that wonderful stickiness seeping between their toes.
Well, at least my
idiotic philosophy about the trees made the ride go by faster; made me zone
out, anyway.
We stumbled into the
house, weary of another day at the studio. It was starting to take its toll,
just like it always did. The weird hours, the warmth of the sunshine, my
mother’s tiresome assignments for ‘schooling’.
There was something I
had never experienced, not as far as I remembered. I would never know the
Homecoming dances or the Winter Balls or Prom or any of it. And of course, this
year Morgana hadn’t gone to Homecoming. She didn’t
plan on going to the Winter Ball. And I hadn’t even heard a mention of her
senior prom… but I was going to work on that one. She deserved to go, and I
sure as hell didn’t want her going with some low-life scum.
Oh, stop it. Who knows
if you’ll even still be dating by the time all of that rolls around, I reminded
myself bitterly as I took a seat on the couch. Where was that remote? Oh, fuck
it. Mackie probably ran off with again.
“Taylor, there you are!
You have a phone call, sweetheart,” my mother told me, offering the cordless
phone in her hand. I took it wordlessly, not even allowing myself to entertain
the notion that it might be Morgana. Best not to
hope.
“Tay, I read them all.
I… I know everything now,” she said quietly, her voice a mere whisper I had to
strain to hear. An awkward silence began to fall over us, but then the meeting
with Chris came to mind.
“Hey, guess what?” I
asked excitedly, pouncing off the couch and going outside. The pool lapped
gently at the rim as I sat on the sun-baked pavement, legs curled beneath me.
“The record company doesn’t care about you or Becca
anymore!”
“That’s great, baby.”
She sounded happy, yet there was something missing in her voice. But I didn’t
care. I just plunged ahead, thrilled to have her talking to me.
“Yeah, so we don’t
have to worry about being seen in places anymore! I can take you wherever I
want! And that means anywhere, Ana! The Grammies are in New York this year and
you’ll be able to go with me!” I was virtually bubbling.
“That’s wonderful,
Taylor.”
My heart sank. There
was no avoiding this. Something was bothering her. Something I was supposed to
know, judging from her tone. But I didn’t know… and I didn’t really want to ask
her. I didn’t want to hear about horrible things. I just wanted to hear her
voice. But that wasn’t what she wanted. “What’s wrong?”
“Tay, why did you want
me to read these?” Pain in her voice, agony, torture.
“Because,” I replied
stupidly, sighing as I leaned into the comforting grass. Even if it wasn’t
real, I didn’t care. It was grass and it was there to hold me.
“Taylor, I love you,”
she whispered finally, her voice breaking and the tears beginning to flow. She
sniffled delicately, trying to steady her voice, no doubt. “I love you so much.
I just want you to hold me, ya know?”
“I know, Ana. You know
I want nothing more right now than to be with you.” I found my own eyes
clouding with tears I wouldn’t shed. I would be stubborn and blink them back.
Look at that, they’re already receding and my vision is clearing.
“My mom said yes to
coming out for the holidays, going to my aunt’s,” she offered suddenly, voice
brightening. “We’ll be together for Christmas.”
“That’s great! I can’t
wait to see you. You’re getting an amazing gift.” In truth, I didn’t really
know what I was getting her.
“I would be happy just
to be with you under the mistletoe.”
“I know.” I sighed,
allowing myself to entertain that thought of us together, sitting before an
open fire… I could sing for her! All the Christmas carols I knew, I could sing.
I knew she loved that, the way I sung to her from time to time. And now I had
an excuse! “I feel exactly the same way.”
Silence lapsed over
us, the only audible noise her faint breathing on the other end of the line.
She sniffled once more and then sighed. “Tay, we’re not going to discuss these
diaries, are we?”
“Do you want to?” I
held my breath, teeth digging into my lip as I waited for an answer. Honestly,
I didn’t know what there was to discuss. I had given her the damn things so I
wouldn’t have to talk about it.
“No.”
The air rushed back
into my lungs in relief. I curled up in one of the lounge chairs, thoughtlessly
picking the grass beneath my dangling fingers. “So, that’s it then.”
“I’ll bring them with
me to Cali and you can have them back.”
“Alright,” I replied,
fidgeting nervously. That was going to be awkward as all hell. “So it’s
definite? That you’re coming here?”
“Yeah. We’re buying
the tickets next week. Mom said something about Priceline.com. We’ll probably
end up on some no-name airline and crash into the
Plains.” She laughed wryly while I frowned at her morbid comment. I didn’t say
anything. It was just a joke…
“As long as you get
here. I want to see you. I miss you, Ana,” I whispered softly, fearing my voice
would break if I spoke any louder.
“I miss you too.” Her
voice faded away, the silence descending again. “But I’ll be there, don’t
worry. We’re renting a car and all at the airport, so I might be able to
persuade my mom to drop me off at the place you’re staying. Or maybe you could
just come visit.”
“Yeah, I don’t mind
coming to visit you. Less people at your place.”
“Probably.” Silence
again. How could we not have anything to say to each other? We hadn’t spoken in
almost two weeks!
“Do you know what day
you’re flying out?”
“The twenty-second.
We’re staying until the second.”
“So we’ll be together
New Year’s Eve,” I commented, toying with the cross around my neck. Turned it
over and over in my hand. Examined it like I had so many other times and then
dropped it back down to my shirt.
“Away from my parents
and yours,” she added, a mischievous tone infiltrating her voice. “We could
sneak off someplace for the night. Isaac loves us, and him and Becca are probably going to go somewhere for the night
anyway. We go along, let our parents believe we’re all staying together, then
just get our own room.”
“I like the way you
think,” I replied softly, almost relishing the ache I was beginning to feel.
Her voice was heaven-sent, as far as I was concerned. Then again, so was the
rest of her. “I’ll talk to Ike about it tomorrow.”
“Yeah…”
“Ana?” I asked after a
moment, sighing heavily. My mother was signaling for me to get off the phone
through the glass door. “I’ve got to go. Call me here anytime, alright?”
“Yeah, I’ve got the
number memorized.”
“I love you, Morgana.”
“I love you too,
baby.”
“Alright, g’night.”
“G’night,” she echoed
softly. I waited until I was sure she had hung up before clicking the off
button. At least I could call her again… At least I had the ability to pick up
the phone and hear her voice, far away as it may be.
I stood, stretching as
I turned to go back in the house. There it was again, that damned sign. The
disgust welled up in the pit of my stomach once more as I glared at it. The period
of none-revulsion had passed and I didn’t want to see it again.
After replacing the
phone inside, not bothering to see what my mother had wanted, I raced up the
stairs to the room I shared with Isaac and Zac. Isaac was carefully tuning his
guitar while Zac toyed with a pencil and a pad of glaring white paper. I didn’t
look at either of them as I marched over to the window and snapped the curtains
shut.
I wasn’t surprised
when neither so much as gave me a back-wards glance.
* * *
December twelfth,
hovering just above seventy-degrees at eleven in the morning. Who can’t love
that? I thought mindlessly as I waltzed into the recording studio. It was a
good day, having already talked to my girlfriend, and not even two full weeks
to go before she joined me in all of this. Isaac was in a cheerful mood with
Rebecca due to arrive that afternoon, her stay extending, well, indefinitely.
She was renting an apartment in West Hollywood, where Isaac was paying a decent
portion of the rent. Probably because he would be spending a larger portion of
his nights in her rooms.
All in all, the Hanson
household was in pretty good shape.
Which made walking
into a recording studio at eleven AM quite acceptable. It was a more than
decent hour compared to some of the other times we had been called in, and we
were all anxious to work. We had just begun serious effort on the album,
carefully and meticulously going through each song.
For some reason, no
one seemed to mind my perfectionist tendencies this time. Isaac would nod in
agreement when I claimed one of was off; Zac was patient enough to re-do his
sections over and over until I was satisfied. Everyone was tolerant of my own
self-abuse in everything about my own pieces being perfect.
We were calm, we were
relaxed. The producers let us take the reins whenever we wanted, which was
quite often, and there was no “professional” song-writers to ‘give us a hand’
this time. It was all us and we were loving it.
This morning I had
reason to be especially excited. The song I had long ago hummed, then sung to Morgana in the privacy of her house, had been completed. I
was recording the vocals for it that morning. Best of all, she didn’t know it,
and wouldn’t, until I handed over a tape when I saw her.
The headphones were
secured over my ears as I stood before the mike. Listened as I was instructed
to back up a little bit, alright, go ahead.
The music came through
the headphones a moment later and I started to sing, eyes sliding shut. “Every
single time I see you, I start to feel this way,” I sung softly, the harmonica
chirping away in my ears. “Makes me wonder, if I’m ever, gonna
feel this way again. There’s a picture…”
As I continued on
through the song, hands flying through the air, all I could picture was her
eyes, her rapture filled eyes as I had sung. She had listened attentively to
the lyrics, then lain back in my arms and let my voice wash over her. She
always loved hearing me sing. Voice of angels, isn’t that what she said?
“That was good, Tay,”
Isaac called as I exited the sound-booth and came back to where he stood. “It
was really good.”
“Yeah, well, lemme hear it,” I replied, trying to keep the terseness out
of my voice. There was no way I had nailed it on the first try. I never
did.
This time was no
exception. I had started late on the second verse and every one should have
heard my voice catching on the final run-through of the chorus.
“Lemme
do it again,” I told my brother’s, jogging back into the sound-proofed room,
placing the headphones back over my ears. Through the glass, I caught the wry
smiles they exchanged, faintly amused by me. They had known I would re-do it.
Ever the perfectionist.
But it was cool,
because Isaac was obviously lost in fantasies about Rebecca, and Zac was deeply
involved in his Dr. Pepper. No one was all that concerned over their demanding
brother and his intense criticism of himself.
“I thought I
heard your voice through a photograph,
I thought it up
it brought up the past,
Once you know
you can never go back,
I’ve got to take
it on the other side...”
I was sitting in my psych class,
trying to not open my mouth. It would most likely prove to be quite interesting
to the rest of the class if I gave my input. After all, wouldn’t I know about
the topic: Celebrities and the non-celebrities in their personal life, how the
celebrity aspects affected relationships with other people.
I didn’t know anything about that.
n
But these people didn’t know
about me and Taylor. Only my close friends knew that the Taylor I was dating
was Taylor Hanson. Only they knew that the blond that had picked me up
near the beginning of school was the same blond some of them had trekked to New
York City for.
So I was keeping my mouth shut. I
was going to be a good little girl.
But of course, my psychology
teacher, accustomed to my usually active participation in discussions, wouldn’t
have it. “So, Ana, what do you think about this? You’ve been unusually quiet.”
I paused for a moment before
answering. Most of the class had answered that there must be an intense
emotional strain, a want of the non-famous person to be in the limelight once
in a while. They had stated that the celebrity would be overbearing, that their
fame would over-shadow any relationship started after they had ‘made it’.
“I think,” I began slowly, “that there
is almost no difference between the relationships stars have and the ones we
have. Sure, there are advantages, such as money … but when it comes down to it,
most stars will only allow themselves to associate and build relationships with
people they know won’t take the approach of jealously. Most people are happy
just to be with the person, just as we are in any relationship that we involve
ourselves in.”
The class fell silent, all
staring at me. Even our teacher, the sometimes dumb, always annoying, and yet
still charming man in some off way, was
dumbfounded.
Our teacher cleared his throat
loudly, then looked over at me. “What makes you think that?”
I bit my lip, looking around.
Skye was in this class. She knew what Taylor had told me; it was alright for
people to know about us. Now she was there, nodding at me. “Well… I… I know
someone,” I mumbled after a moment, absently toying with my pentacle. It was a
nervous habit I had picked up.
Murmurs rose through the class,
all eyes turned to the girl, clad entirely in black, toying with her necklace
and making an intense study of the tiles on the floor.
“Who?”
I bit my lip again, looking over
at Skye. She smiled softly, nodding again. Then I sighed. Oh well… they’d all
know at some point anyway. “I’ve been… uh, I’ve been dating a musician since
July.”
“How well known is this person, Morgana? We’re talking about stars of international fame in
this discussion.” I could hear the reproach in his voice as Mr. Chase settled
back on his desk. A smile was tugging on his lips as he, and the rest of the
class, peered back at me with a humoring smile.
“Well,” I muttered through
flaming cheeks, “Does a number one song in forty-something different countries
count? A multi-platinum debut album? A multi-million dollar tour? A platinum
Christmas album? A platinum live album? Is that all the kind of status you’re
talking about?”
There was a deep silence that
fell over the room as my some-what sarcastic words sunk in. Only Skye was
grinning, more like smirking, at me.
Slowly, Mr. Chase looked at me,
waiting until I rose my eyes up to look back at him. “So, who is this person, Morgana? Why the suspense?”
Once again, I bit my lip. Toyed
with the pentacle. Then caught sight of Kirsten, a girl I had seen at the Labor
Day concert. I stared at her, meeting her gaze and then said softly, “Kirsten,
I’ll bet you can figure this out. You went to go see his band Labor Day weekend
for the Z100 show. They played last and you threw a note on-stage with your
phone-number for him.” I smiled in amusement as the shock, then disbelief took
over her features.
“No way!” She gaped at me, her
hand flying to her mouth. Oh, no, I thought dimly, she’s going to mess up her
perfect lip-gloss application. And she just fixed it thirty seconds ago. “You’re
lying,” she replied in a snooty tone after a few moments of staring at me.
“He’d never date you.”
“Oh, for Christ’s sake, she’s
dating Taylor Hanson!” Skye finally called out to the silent room, looking over
at me with satisfaction as the room gaped.
“Is this some sort of joke?” Mr.
Chase asked suddenly, narrowing his eyes first at Skye and then at me. He
motioned for the class to quiet down. “I mean, this is an awfully unbelievable
statement.”
“Is it unbelievable that someone
from this town would date a celebrity,” I began as I dug out my wallet and
stood, “or that I would ever be the one to be in five-month relationship with
the same guy millions of girls want?” With that said, I dropped my open wallet
onto Kirsten’s desk, calmly displaying the photo of Taylor and I from the Labor
Day concert. “I’m sure you can verify that’s the same guy your room is
undoubtedly plastered in.”
There was a prolonged silence.
Finally, Kirsten gave me back my wallet and muttered begrudgingly, “Yeah, it’s
him.”
Satisfied with what she had told
the class, and knowing I was now believed, I plopped back into my seat and went
about putting my wallet away. “So, Mr. Chase,” I said slowly, “would you like
to question me some more as to my comment about celebrities?”
“No, that’ll be all Morgana. Thank-you for correcting us all,” he said, voice
tinged with sarcasm. I couldn’t wait to tell Taylor about this one…
He was nearly on the floor
laughing at the display I had put on, when I told him over the phone that
night. Yep, he found it downright hilarious. And when Rebecca and Isaac came
into the living room where he had himself sprawled over the couch, he relayed
the story. Rebecca managed to tear the phone away from Taylor long enough to
congratulate me on showing up the little snot Kirsten. And endure my teasing
about how surprised I was that her and Isaac could be found in that house.
Wasn’t her apartment more… private… for their activities?
But like Taylor would let anyone
else have the phone for more than two seconds.
He told me all was well in warm,
sunny So Cal. Yep, the twentieth of December and the temperature was just
grazing eighty. I only shivered and glared out my bedroom window at the foot of
snow.
And damn, did he miss me.
Couldn’t wait to see me on Friday. Didn’t care in the least that my flight
didn’t come in until ten, and that was in LAX, home of all the delays in the
world. He would be by my aunt’s to visit. Had in fact already found her house.
But now he had to go because they
all had a meeting with their manager to attend to. Something about the break
for the holidays. He loved me, he would see me soon. Of course he’d say hi to
everyone for me. Alright, I loved him too. Dial tone.
* * *
Nicole, it would appear, was just
as anxious as I was to leave. We had gotten out of our Friday classes just
before lunch and now were in my car on our way to my mother’s office. Luggage,
tickets, all of it had been put in my car that morning, and my mother had
gotten a ride to work with a friend. I was picking her up and then we were all
driving to the airport.
“California!” Nicole cried as I
hit the freeway and slammed the gas down, mindless of the slick pavement. “Oh,
good bye snow!” She giggled lightly and I shook my head.
We turned to the Red Hot Chili
Peppers once our suit-clad mother got in the car and let Californication
spill through the speakers. It was a bitter song, yet none of us cared. We were
going there! We were getting out of the snow and the cold. And I was
going to see Taylor.
Of course, Nicole, upon hearing
that Ali and Zac had suffered a major blowout over the phone the previous
weekend, and things looked grim as far as reconciliation, was most likely
concocting some sort of scheme. Although I hoped, for my sake, her plotting
went un-rewarded. The brothers-dating-sisters thing was just so cliché. I did
hope she could cheer Zac up; just not the same way I managed to brighten
Taylor’s day.
As usual, the plane ride was
nothing more than an extended amount of torture. Babies screaming as their
mother’s cooed at them. Encourage the damn kid,
I thought angrily as I watched some idiotic woman wave her child high in
the air.
But it was over in due time.
Headphones blasting away the cheery Christmas music offered by Taylor’s voice
on Snowed In eventually blocked out my mother babbling on to Nicole and I about
something we couldn’t care less about. Was I ever thankful for that.
California was far from the snow
and ice we had left behind in New England. Palm trees swayed lightly in the
breeze, and while it was in the lower sixties as we stepped off the plane,. I
didn’t care in the least. It was warm here, downright tropical after hearing
nothing but wind chill factors plunging well below freezing.
Not that I would have cared if
that were the temperature here as well. I had Taylor to keep me nice and toasty
on those cold nights. Maybe I could convince my mother to let Taylor spend the
night… or more likely, convince my aunt. She had three spare bedrooms. My mom,
Nicole, and me… and Taylor with me.
But that was a subject I wasn’t
going to even think about touching on after the tiring flight. Now I just
wanted to grab the rental car, let my mother drive, and collapse on my aunt’s
couch. I remembered that couch, overstuffed so you just sunk right into it.
My eyes snapped open half-way to
Hollywood. Taylor was going to be there! He was going to be waiting for me…
I hoped.
When we pulled into the small
circular driveway, which hugged the road tightly, there was no sign of Taylor.
Only my aunt’s car. No one else’s. As we entered, my aunt herself appeared,
arms open. Kisses and hugs were bestowed. All ushered up the stairs, shown our
rooms, and instructed to come downstairs in a few.
She followed after me, watching
as I slid the mirror-plated closet door open. “Ana, a young man dropped by
earlier. He said to tell you he was sorry, but something came up. Asked that
you call him on his cell-phone when you got here. Taylor? He said you knew the
number.” She raised her eyebrows lightly. “Is this the guy you’ve told me so
much about?”
“Yeah,” I replied, trying to keep
the disappointment out of my voice. I looked back at her as she smiled lightly.
“Well, he seems very nice. I’ll be downstairs.”
She was gone, and I noticed she
had left the cordless phone on the bed. I picked it up, then, on second
thought, dropped it. He wouldn’t pick up. Instead of going downstairs, I
dropped on to the bed and fell into a restless sleep.
The ringing of the phone the next
morning was what finally brought the tossing and turning to an end. I wasn’t
going to answer it, but it was right next to me. It would be easy for me to
just pick it up and say hello.
“Ana! Hey, babe. Why didn’t you
call me back last night?” Taylor asked, voice slightly hurt and accusing all at
the same time.
“Because I was tired,” I lied,
snuggling deeper under the sheets. It’s so nice and warm here, I thought with a
little grin. My window had been opened all night… in December.
“Oh. Can I stop by and see you
tonight?” he pleaded softly. I could just see the puppy-eyes that always made
me feel so guilty for not giving in to him immediately.
“I dunno
Taylor. I promised Nicole I would go shopping with her tonight. I had thought I
was going to spend last night with you.” I had tried to keep the terseness, the
bitterness out of my voice, but it would appear that I had failed. I heard the
biting tone.
“Things came up, Morgana,” he said, a twinge of unease coating his words.
“We had to go into LA and-“
“I don’t want to hear it,
Taylor,” I cut in, not caring that I was talking over him. “You’ve got your
excuse, ok? And tonight I’ve got mine. I promised my sister something and I’m
going to keep my word.”
“Morgana,”-voice
tightening with a few shades of anger-“I have wanted nothing more than to see
you since Halloween. Now you’re here and you’re being… you’re being difficult.
Won’t Nicole understand?”
“You’re missing the point!” I all
but shouted at him, keeping my voice down only for the sake of the other people
sleeping in the house. “The point is that I promised her I would go, so I’m
going. I know she would understand; she would shoo me out of here to see you.
But she’s not finding out because I
promised this to her and I’m keeping my fucking promise. This is my
sister!”
“Yeah, and I love you and haven’t
seen you for two months. But I suppose that doesn’t matter one damned bit.”
“You’re being selfish. And
unreasonable. You didn’t show last
night. I counted on that. Something came up. Alright, good, you went. Well,
think of this as something coming up. Because tonight, I am going with Nicole.”
“You know what, Morgana? I am being selfish. Because I love you and haven’t
seen you forever, I am being selfish. But if you would rather go shopping, that’s just peachy.”
There was a sharp click and he
was gone.
With my luck, Nicole had been
awake and standing just outside my door the entire time. She walked in
silently, putting one arm around my shoulders. Leaned in close, hugging me
tight. “Morgana Summer,” she said, voice mockingly
stern, “you are going to see Taylor tonight. You and I will go shopping as soon
as you shower. We’ll be back by six, and you can have done both. You’ll have
kept your promise with me and you’ll get to see Taylor.”
Her eyes twinkled as I glared at
her next comment, “And don’t even try that stubborn mind of yours on me. It
won’t work. Now call Taylor back while I shower.”
She was gone before I could
refuse.
Well, this is going to require
major sucking up of my pride, I thought sourly as I gazed at the phone. He had
hung up on me! And now I had to call him back.
Isaac picked the phone up on the
third ring, Taylor’s voice in the background. He was instructing Isaac to tell
me he wasn’t there. Isaac, of course, promptly ignored him and handed over the
phone.
“Hi, Taylor, what were you
doing?” I asked meekly, trying to keep calm. Why I hadn’t thought of such a
simple solution as Nicole’s, I don’t know.
“Smoking. Is that alright?” I
winced, but still couldn’t help but wonder. Was he really, or was he just
saying that to get under my skin?
“Taylor, I… I’m sorry I called
you selfish. I want to see you too.” Silence. “Nicole came up with a solution.
We’re going to go now and then you can stop by this evening. That way
everybody’s happy, ok?”
“I wouldn’t want to upset your
precious plans.”
I cringed faintly at his frigid
tone, but forced myself to be calm. I had attacked him. “You’re not. I… I
over-reacted. I want to see you tonight, baby… I miss you.”
“Didn’t seem to miss me that much
a few minutes ago.” He was giving in slightly, I could hear his voice
softening. Almost, I thought with relief, almost got him.
“Well, you did wake me up.”
He laughed quietly, then sighed.
“Alright, I’m sorry too. And I wasn’t really smoking. I just said that cause I
know you don’t like it.”
“So I figured.”
“Ana?”
“Hmm?”
“I love you.”
“I love you too.” I cradled the
phone against my shoulder as I got out of bed. My suitcase was hauled out of
the closet and plopped down before being flung open. There, right on top. Black
skirt with rhinestones along the hem and a black tank top with a delicate
pattern embroidered along the hem. A crocheted black sweater would go over the
tank-top, left un-buttoned. Now, where were those boots?
“Um, what time do you want me to
stop by?”
“Seven ok?”
“Great.”
“Mmk,
but I have to go cause I need to shower. Nic insists
we leave soon. I’ll see you later, ok?”
“Yeah. I love you,” he replied,
waiting until I repeated the words before he hung up.
Nicole was just stepping out of
the shower as I entered the bathroom, fluffy white towel secured around her.
The shower felt good, deliciously
hot water massaging me back and washing away all the uneasy feelings I’d
dredged up in my brief argument with Taylor.
I wasn’t going to dwell on
arguments with Taylor. I was going to take my shower, get dressed, spend way
too much money shopping, then come back and let Taylor console me. Or maybe
just hold me. Or maybe do more than hold me.
“All
through the night I’ll be standing over you,
All through the night I’ll be watching
over you,
And through bad dreams I’ll be right
there, baby,
Holding your hand, telling you everything
will be alright,
And when you cry I’ll be right there,
Telling you you
were never anything less than beautiful…”
I was determined to
make it up to her after the morning’s upset. So when I showed up on her aunt’s
doorstep with a single red rose and an apologetic grin, it was with good
intentions.
Thankfully, she took
it that way, not with some snide remark about me thinking that flowers can
solve everything. She took my hand, kissed my cheek lightly as she took the
flower, and led me into the beautiful living room of her aunt’s house.
The proper
introductions were made. I smiled and accepted hugs, chatted briefly with
Nicole. Then followed Morgana into the kitchen to
retrieve a vase.
Of course, as soon as
she had the crystal in hand, she took off up the stairs. Her room, third door
on the left, bed un-made and shopping bags littering the floor.
“Uh-uh,” she cautioned
lightly, shoving the bags into the closet with her toe and letting the doors
slide shut, “you can’t peek.”
“Presents for me?” I
asked curiously, watching as she placed the rose on the small night stand to
the right of her bed.
“Among others.” She
smiled warmly, arms open. “Well, do I get a hug?”
“You get a lot more
than that,” I replied, nudging the door closed with my foot before walking into
her open arms. I held her tightly for a moment, then lay her down against the
mattress. Her skirt was short and rode up her thighs slightly as she lay back,
but it would appear she didn’t care and I certainly wasn’t going to object.
Our first kiss was
sweet, delicate, lips grazing each other’s. Then passion overcame us and my
mouth was racing over her skin, taking everything I could in. I wanted to
memorize the feeling of her flesh beneath my lips. I wanted to remember every little
detail, every smooth curve; everything.
The cardigan she wore
was discarded quickly, bare arms smooth and pleasant smelling. Some sort of
body lotion, I recalled dimly, remembering the Victoria’s Secret container on
her dresser.
“Taylor, we shouldn’t…
they’re all downstairs,” she warned apprehensively, pushing me away. Her arms
were still wound around my neck, fingers playing with the longer locks of hair
spilling down.
“And?” I replied with
a devilish grin and a faint nuzzling of her neck.
“Tay!” She frowned
lightly, yet still only teasing. Reclaiming her cardigan from the mattress and
shrugging it back on, she leaned back against the wall. “Unlike you, who
doesn’t care who hears what, I do.”
“Um, I don’t mean this
to sound how it does, but are you telling me the entire time we’re here
together we’re not going to…?”
“No!” She laughed at
the relief that came into my features, scooting closer and winding her arms
around my neck. “I know that would just drive you insane. In fact,”-her arms
dropped down around my waist and traveled under my pants-“I bet it’s driving
you insane right now.”
Of course, she removed her hands before they ever
reached home.
She couldn’t have been
more right in her statement. Her long, smooth legs were exposed in all their glory
for one. For two, she was just beautiful, no matter what clothes she wore. I
hadn’t seen her since October. I wanted her badly. Really badly. It had been months since I had felt her touch
against my skin.
“Ana,” I whined
softly, catching her wrist. I tugged lightly, not hard enough to pull her down, though she did
fall. “C’mon, just… just let me kiss you.”
“Ya
know, Taylor…” Her eyes danced before they slid shut and she brought her mouth
against mine. I lay her back against the mattress, not breaking my kisses.
“Missed you so much,”
I murmured, moving my mouth to her ear, knowing my hot breath was more than
merely pleasant against her skin. One hand snaked up her shirt, caressing every
inch of skin discovered.
“Me too,” she returned
after a moment, her words commencing with a delicious sigh. Her eyes opened
again, gaze holding mine as I eased the shirt up her body. The stare was broken
when I started dropping kisses over her breasts, over her shoulders, her
collarbones, back to her neck, then her mouth once more.
She was pushing me
away again, straightening her shirt. “Tay, seriously now. We’ll have time…
we’ll make time. Not now.”
I allowed her to push
me away, sitting back and straightening my shirt. The cardigan came back for
try number two, her fingers combed her hair for a moment before she stood.
“Would you like me to change my skirt so I’m not so tempting?”
“Watching you change
is too tempting to even think about,” I shot back, letting her observe my look
of longing. “God, I want you so bad, Morgana…”
“I know.” She giggled
lightly, dropping soft kisses over my face. “Just be happy you’ve got those
loose pants on tonight.”
My eyes widened as I
looked down, knowing by the familiar ache exactly what awaited my gaze, and
blushed lightly. “Aw, shit, Morgana… can’t we just…
take care of this? I don’t want to go down there…”
“Taylor, what do you
want me to do for you? We’re not having sex with my mother downstairs! And I
really don’t feel like giving you… stop with the eyes. There’s the bathroom.”
She pointed out the door. “Go take care of it yourself.”
I only shook my head,
knowing I wasn’t getting anywhere with her. And also knowing I didn’t want to
sit beside her mother with my pants poking up at the crotch, I took her advice
to go into the bathroom.
Being a guy can be so
humiliating.
She was waiting for me
when I opened the door, my cheeks losing their light flush as I washed my
hands. Toweled them off. Kissed her once, twice, three times and then let
myself be led down the stairs.
No comments from
anyone as we came back into the living room, to my surprise. And delight. This
was definitely different than the Hanson household. Then again, I think almost
everyone is quite different than the Hanson household.
We settled onto the
couch together, Morgana leaning against me with great
comfort as her mother and aunt talked. It was going to be a long night, but I
supposed that was ok because I had her curled up with me.
Just before eleven,
she led me out to the deck that extended off the back of the house. It offered
a beautiful view of the valley, well, those parts of the valley not obscured by
smog. A cool breeze blew gently through the small trees and shrubs as I wrapped
my arms around her.
“I love you,” I
whispered, kissing her neck lightly. She leaned back into my arms with a faint
smile, “I love you too,” fluttering from her lips. It was a perfect moment
together, on Christmas Eve’s Eve in Southern California.
Christmas… my excuse
to sing to her! I laughed lightly, clearing my throat and beginning to sing one
of the band’s Christmas songs off of 97’s ‘Snowed In’.
“Everything’s
different, but nothing’s changed. Are we going in circles, it’s Christmas
again. Can’t you hear the sleigh bells ring, all our voices unite, and look up
to the heavens, see the stars shining bright…”
The chorus picked up
slowly, her soft voice singing along under her breath as she let my arms
support her. Not that I minded. I was more than strong enough to do it, and
besides, I liked having her so close.
“We’ve been blessed by
the children, black, yellow, and white. They believe in the things, we try to
deny. So throw down your weapons, but continue the fight. And let’s love one
another, on this holy night…
“Everybody needs a
little lovin, around Christmas time…” Her voice swaying
gently with mine, no, not the most amazing singer in the world. But she carried
the tune with ease, eyes closed to the world as I held her and we sang to each
other.
“O reach down inside
your heart, and see all the love, o in your heart, you’ll find the reason…” The
final chorus picked up again, but this time it was just me, singing in a soft,
husky voice close to her ear. A smile draped itself over her features, reaching
into her eyes when she gazed back.
And when I had stopped
singing, her lips captured mine in a sweet kiss I hadn’t expected but received
gladly. It was a beautiful night and I could only imagine that this Christmas
was going to be the best one yet.
“Stay here tonight,”
she whispered softly after a moment, her hands, slightly chilled, warming now
under my shirt. “Sleep with me… let me wake up on Christmas Eve next to you.”
“I’d have to call and
ask.”
“So go get the phone.
I’ll make sure it’s alright.” She was gone in a rush, racing into the living
room as I picked up the cordless phone she had left me. I didn’t bother asking
my mother, I just told my dad I was spending the night, be back by noon time.
He said I had better be and hung up.
It was snuggled up in
her arms, sleep just beginning to claim my tired body, that the clocked clicked
over to Christmas Eve. And, as opposed to the last two years where the night
had found me sneaking out to fuck some random girl, I was in the arms of love.
* * *
Sunlight streaming
over my face was what woke me. Sunlight and the coolness of the bed.
“Ana?” I called
lightly, sitting up and looking around the room. She was nowhere to be seen. I
stood, going to the door and poking my head out into the hallway. No sign of
her. “Morgana?”
A door opened down the
hall and she walked over, still wearing her pajamas. I was given a soft kiss in
greeting before being led back.
“What were you doing?”
I asked as we snuggled back down under the blankets together.
“Wrapping presents. Nic and I were doing it together cause we already got our
gifts for each other and have them wrapped. But I want to be with you right
now.” Her eyes danced merrily as she nestled her body more tightly against
mine. Lips soft against my chest as she deposited gentle kisses. Arms warm as
they wrapped around me.
I knew I was falling asleep
again before long, her soft rhythmic breathing lulling me off. I wanted to stay
awake, be with her, but it was too hard. My eyelids were too heavy and the
effort required to keep them open just wasn’t there.
She was gone when I
woke up an hour later.
Probably finishing
wrapping everything, I thought as I stretched. Reached down for my pants and
tugged them on. Didn’t bother with the shirt as I wandered down the hall to the
stairs. And there, down in her aunt’s living room, was Morgana,
fussing over the way the gifts were arranged beneath the tree.
I sighed, forcing
myself to tear my eyes away from her perfect ass and look at the stairs in
front of me. It just wouldn’t be too good if she caught me staring at her.
Arms wrapped around
her waist, I breathed in her scent, delicious as always. Pulled her away from
the tree with the assurance that everything looked great. Sat down on the couch
and tugged her onto my lap.
Her coal hair spilled
easily from her shoulders down her back, tinged with blue as it shone brightly
in the morning sunshine. Just short of eleven on Christmas Eve and she was
curled in my arms again. “Merry Christmas,” I whispered softly in her ear,
tightening my grip around her slightly for a moment. Dropped a gentle kiss on
cheek and told her I loved her.
The smile that
brightened her face shone deep in her eyes as she brought her lips to mine. “I
love you too… Merry Christmas.”
“Do you want your gift
tonight or tomorrow?” I asked her softly, leaning against the plush cushions.
Her body had settled against mine, melting into my arms as always.
“We always open gifts
tonight.” She laughed lightly. “Although, technically, it’s not Christmas for
me. It’s Yule and it began a few days ago, but the family still celebrates
Christmas.”
Oh yeah… I forgot
about that whole thing. Idiot.
“Isn’t Christmas
another name for Yule?”
“Nope, it’s Yule or
Yuletide.”
I gave her a curious
look… I was somewhat intrigued by all of this. All I had ever known was the
Christian faith. And now my girlfriend was pagan, the same religion condemned
in the bible… but I was still curious. “When’s it start?”
She laughed lightly,
leaning back more heavily against me. “I’ll just give you some basic info,
alright? Will that satisfy your curiosity?” I nodded.
“Ok, Yule starts on
the twentieth of December and goes through the thirty-first. The twelve days of
Christmas. All the quote-unquote Christian things that we do, red and green,
gift giving, cutting and decorating the tree? It’s all of pagan descent. The
only thing the Christians really cut out was burning the tree every year and
shorten it to two days instead of twelve.” She looked back at me, picking up
the cross around my neck. “Bet you never knew that.”
“Nope. You know how I
was raised,” I replied, kissing her cheek lightly. “But, it doesn’t matter to
me what you believe… just don’t cast any spells on me!”
I was happy my comment
didn’t offend her. There was a moment where I feared I might have. It wasn’t
something we’d discussed that much of since we’d started dating. Not that I
wanted to get into it… it wasn’t all that important.
The only thing that
was vaguely important to me at that moment was being with her. Neither of us
even had to talk as far as I was concerned. I would have been happy to just sit
with her. Because it was Christmas and we were together.
And when I arrived
back at the house a few hours later, Isaac was there, seemingly as miserable to
be parted from Rebecca as I was from Morgana. But our
mother had insisted that it was only the family in the afternoon; she had
insisted that we ate Christmas dinner as a family.
She didn’t have
anything to say when Isaac snapped at her that Rebecca was going to be a part
of the family very soon. Then again, there hadn’t been any proposals, so maybe
she thought Isaac was just a little miffed. I didn’t even bother. I planned on
sneaking out, if I had to, later. And Isaac would spend the night undoubtedly
in Rebecca’s bed. And would pick at whatever food my mother cooked because he
was going to Rebecca’s to have Christmas dinner with her.
Not like I wasn’t
going to do the same. I had been invited to be with my girlfriend and her
family that night. I would spend the night and go back early in the morning
with Isaac to open gifts with our family. He was my ride that night and the
next morning; neither of us were going to spend the night alone.
My mother saw our plan
early. Saw it in the moping, saw it as we picked at her lavish spread, as we
glared, exchanged impatient glances for all the pomp and circumstance to be
over.
But it was as we were
finally rising from the table to shower and change that she instructed us to
both sit down. We were going to have a little chat.
“I don’t know what’s
gotten into you two boys,” she began, voice tinted with anger. “Your behavior
today has been miserable. Both of you were given leniency about your absence
from this house last night. All that I ask is that we have a nice, family
dinner. But that seems to be too much. And I was just curious as to why my two
sons are being this way.”
“Well, Mom,” Isaac
sneered, tight-lipped as he clenched his knuckles in his lap. While our mother
couldn't see the bone white color, I could. “Maybe because in the process of
wanting to have a family dinner, you forget that all the other years, we’ve
been away from Tulsa. I haven’t had the option to spend the holiday with
Rebecca. And now she’s here in California, alone, and you won’t let her be here
because she’s not part of the family. Well, sorry to burst your bubble, but she
will be within the next few months.”
Our mother glared at
him, taken back. “You will talk to me with respect, Clarke Isaac.” I winced at
the name. She only applied that name to Isaac when he had made her more than
angry. “And as far as Rebecca being a part of this family, nobody has told us
about any marriage.”
“Because we wanted to
tell everyone together. But yes, I proposed and she accepted. The ring’s on her
finger, Mom, if that’s what you’re looking for.” His tone had softened while he
had spoken of his, girl… uh, fiancée, but as soon as he said ‘Mom’, his tone
was nasty.
Visibly shocked, she
stared back at him, eyes softening slightly. “Well, when’s the ceremony?”
“May fifth.”
May fifth… that day
had some significance, I was certain of it. One that I had heard before, yet I
still couldn’t quite place it.
“Where?”
“Tulsa.”
“Well, good, than the
ceremony can be in St. James where you two were baptized. Well, all of you
except for Zac…”
“Mom,” Isaac cut in
sharply, “The wedding’s not going to be in the church.”
“What?!”
“No church wedding.”
“Isaac, you are
getting married in a church. No son of mine is going to be wed in some unholy…”
“Mom, there will be no
church and that’s final.” He stood up and walked away without a backward
glance. I winced as a door slammed upstairs. And cringed again when my mother’s
fury filled eyes turned to me.
“No church! Of all
the… what has gotten into him! What has gotten into you!” she demanded, finger
pointing sharply at me. “I’m asking you something Taylor!”
“Nothing Mom,” I
replied, shaking my head in disgust. She had managed to hurt Isaac and I both…
and Rebecca far more than either of us. I stood, pushing in my chair and
walking away.
“Jordan Taylor, get
back here, I’m not finished talking to you!”
“I’ll see you tomorrow
morning Mom!” I called as I treaded up the stairs. Isaac was stepping out of
the shower when I walked in, his five-minute shower amazing me as always.
“Hurry up,” he
snapped, flinging open the closet and tearing a shirt off the hanger, “We’re
leaving in half an hour or less. I want out.”
No problem, I thought
silently. Morgana was expecting me for five and it
was ten past four. I’d be a few minutes early.
Isaac dumped me off in
record time, making me repeat that I would be ready to leave for six-thirty the
next morning. We had to be back to open gifts with the family. Oh yeah, invite Morgana to come. He was planning on bringing Rebecca.
When the door was
flung open a few seconds later, it was Nicole standing on the other side. She
tugged me into a warm hug and deposited a kiss on either cheek. “She’s almost
ready. Wants you to wait down here.”
I nodded, surprised by
her affectionate greeting. Holiday spirit, I supposed.
Morgana’s
mother Calista was just as warm as she hugged me in
greeting. Asked if I wanted a glass of champagne, my parents wouldn’t mind,
would they? I declined, wanting to wait for Morgana.
And then there was her
Aunt Morgan, the last generation’s faery. Resembling
her in an almost eerie fashion, with rich, curly locks and a youthful smile, it
was easy to see why Morgana loved coming to
California and staying at her aunt’s.
She too offered me the
champagne.
I wasn’t able to
answer; Morgana entered just as I was about to reply.
“Aunt Morgan, let me get him for a little while before he starts drinking!” she
chided lightly, standing on her toes to give me a soft kiss, lips blissfully
free of make-up. “Alright, that’s good,” she added, reaching for two crystal
champagne flutes and the glittering bottle.
I took the glass
silently, not bothering to marvel at the way her mother didn’t protest as her
daughter took my hand, and the remaining half of the bottle, out onto the deck.
“I like your family,”
I said instead, sipping at the bittersweet champagne. “They give out quality
alcohol, no questions asked.”
She giggled lightly,
setting glass and bottle down. I paused for a moment, holding her at arms
length as I took in her attire.
Back-less silver shirt
that shimmer when she moved, held together by only one knot formed by
crisscrossed strings just beneath her delicate shoulder blades. That knot will
come out awfully easy tonight, I thought with a sly grin. Short black skirt,
slit at least half-way up her peach thigh. Rhinestones sparkling along one side
of the slit. Hair long and flowing, make-up sultry and smoky. Delicate silver
earrings, pentacle hanging down to her more-than-slightly exposed breasts.
God, did I want it to
be New Year’s Eve.
Ah, well, who knows, I
thought as I let my hand fall into my jacket pocket. Smooth velvet was under my
fingers. Maybe you’ll get something nice tonight once she sees the gift you got
her.
But then she was in my
arms, mouth against mine. Her tongue caressed mine quite gently, making me want
to hold her more tightly, to be rougher in my kisses. To just devour her in
passion.
Just not with her
mother on the other side of the glass doors. Like she was right now.
“Oh, don’t worry you
two,” she called as I blushed brilliantly, “You’ll get your time alone tonight.
Just try not to be too loud, alright?” And then she was gone again with the warning
that dinner would be done in five minutes. We might want to come inside.
“She’s a little
tipsy,” Morgana reminded me, tongue flicking out to
warm my ear, “But we’re going to have fun taking advantage of that fact.”
That we are, I thought
dimly as her kisses surrounded me again. That familiar ache was building
between my legs as I let my mind wander. It didn’t have to wander much further
than the body in my arms.
The scrumptious meal
laid out on the table in the house was more than appetizing, that was for sure.
I was perfectly happy that I had picked at my mother’s cooking. And the dinner,
all in all, was much more pleasant here, without my younger siblings constantly
being told not to play with their food.
Here, all were dressed
as if we were in an expensive restaurant. Morgana’s
previously described outfit, Nicole’s little black dress, her mother’s ensemble
straight out of Armani. And her aunt who I was quite certain frequented Rodeo
Drive.
I certainty was
relieved that I hadn’t overdressed. My own Armani outfit, I had feared to be
over-doing it, contrary to Isaac’s assurances, fit right in.
Glass after glass of
champagne was poured. I must have been on my forth glass when a toast was
finally given by Nicole, of all people. It was a toast to her sister’s
happiness, no less. With me, specifically. A toast to all the good I had done
for Morgana, and to my girlfriend herself, for her
happiness to continue.
I was absolutely
flabbergasted. Had these people been drinking all afternoon, or was my own household
no where near as loving and compassionate as I had always found it to be?
After dinner, the
dishes dropped to soak in the sink, all were led into the living room. Gifts
piled high beneath the tree were handed out to the family, and yet I didn’t feel
as if I didn’t belong. I was observing, yes, but I felt part of the family.
They had all gone to a certain effort to ensure I did.
Quite the opposite of
my own mother, but such a sore subject shouldn’t be harped on such a happy
holiday.
“A good love is
delicious,
You can’t get
enough too soon…
“Lay me out in
firelight,
Let my skin feel
the night,
Fasten me to
your side,
Say it will be
soon,
You make me so
crazy, baby…
“Love is a
flame, neither timid nor tame…”
I had noticed a slight unease, a tenseness
I couldn’t quite place in Taylor when he had arrived. But as the champagne sank
in and he was welcomed with open arms by my family, it faded. He leaned back,
relaxed, smiled with ease.
I kicked off my shoes, not caring
I looked ridiculous in my lavish dress and bare feet. Curled up on the
down-filled couch beside Taylor and opened gifts with my family.
I was saving my gift for Taylor
until we were alone. Just as he was his for me.
My mother’s some-what drunken
comment from earlier rang in my ears as she wished us all good-night shortly
passed ten. She was tired and a head-ache was starting. My aunt wasn’t far
behind.
Nicole remained with us, her own
eyes as captivated by the fire as mine. She kept looking back at us, on the
couch, with anxious stares. Finally she just left, wishing us a happy holiday
and a good night.
“Alone at last,” Taylor whispered
softly in my ear. I was fully relaxed and didn’t bother making sure everything
was appropriately covered. “You wanna stay down here for a while?”
“Yeah. I want you to open your
gift before we get… preoccupied.” A smile was flashed in my direction as I rose
and reached under the tree. I dropped the heavy package carefully on his lap
and then sat back down.
“Awfully heavy,” he commented,
toying with the red ribbon looped around the gift.
“Open it,” I encouraged, leaning
my cheek against his shoulder. He started to un-tie the ribbon, slipping it off
without tearing it. Went to set it aside. Stopped. Gave me a mischievous grin
as he looped it behind my neck. Pulled me close for a slow, lingering kiss.
I couldn’t help but giggle
lightly when I pulled away, snatching the ribbon back. I tied it in my hair and
smiled at him. “I suppose I could just be your gift.”
“You’re the gift I get everyday,”
he replied sweetly before returning to tearing open the packaging. A delighted
smile broke out over his features as he caught sight of the writing revealed.
I had bought him a bunch of
compilations of children’s stories and fairy tales, making sure to get all the
ones he had told me were among his favorites as a child. The Brother’s Grimm, a
collection of the original publications, old Celtic legends, stories filled
with dragons and les fays and warlocks alike. All the things he had
confessed were childhood obsessions as we lay under my mythical ceiling.
It wasn’t an overly pricey gift,
no, but it was sweet. It was something I was sure he would love.
And I had been right Fingers
running over the smooth, though sometimes ghastly, illustrations, his eyes were
lit up with that little boy’s fire I loved.
“This is great, Ana.” He let the
books fall shut and set them aside. The wrapping paper was sent sailing into
the fire and then I was in his arms. A gentle hug, a soft kiss. It was
beautiful and romantic and perfect. “I love you,” he said in that charming way
of his, eyes shining in the fire.
“I love you too.” Sat back in his
firm grip and let his body warm mine. Just let his love wash over me.
“Close your eyes,” he whispered
softly in my ear. I obeyed instantly, a grin pouncing across my face. There was
a faint snapping noise, his lips against my ear again. “Alright, open.”
In his hand, he held an open
velvet box, a beautiful ring inside. It was a claddagh ring. Sterling silver
band encasing the hands. The heart was made of a carefully cut emerald and
burned brightly in the dim light of the fire. “Oh, God, Taylor,” I breathed
softly as he took the ring out and slid it onto my right hand, “This is
beautiful.”
“Well, you’re beautiful. I had to
find something that would do you some form of justice.” He was smiling softly
as I turned around, eyes going from his to the ring shimmering on my right
hand.
“Where did you ever find this?”
“Custom designed. So that you,” a
soft kiss on one cheek, “can have,” another soft kiss on the other cheek,
“something as uniquely beautiful as you. Though I do think that this doesn’t
hold much of a flame compared to what I’m staring at right now.” I didn’t have
a moment to reply before his mouth had captured mine.
It was a perfect gift, a delicate
blend of his love, the tradition of my beliefs. The claddagh rings were Irish, after
all.
“I think we should go upstairs,”
Taylor whispered in his wonderfully sexy, husky voice that only I heard. His
fingers had already snaked their way under my legs and now the other hand
wrapped around my back. “And take advantage of the fact your aunt and mother
have had a little too much to drink and will sleep like the dead.”
I smiled brightly at him as he
stood, feeling beautifully loved with his arms cradling me in the march up the
stairs.
He closed the door to my room
with his foot. Set me down gently on the bed before locking the door. It didn’t
take him more than a few moments to spot the candles on a nightstand. Those
were lit and then he was beside me on the bed.
“I have to leave early tomorrow
morning,” he said softly, taking one of my hands to his mouth. He began kissing
my fingers slowly, lips silky against my skin. Then, quite suddenly, he sat up,
features brightening. “Guess what? Ike proposed to Rebecca! And she said yes!
They’re getting married May fifth!” he continued on quickly before I had time
to guess.
“Beltane,” I whispered softly
under my breath, shaking my head.
“What?”
“Beltane,” I repeated, looking
over at Taylor. I let my fingers wind down to the buttons of his shirt,
beginning to un-hook them one by one. “May fifth is Beltane. It’s a holiday in
Wicca that’s a time for love, for unions. Represents when the God and Goddess
came together.”
“Rebecca’s a witch too?” He gaped
at me, eyes large and curious. “I never knew that. But it does explain
something.”
“What?”
“Isaac just told Mom today they
were engaged. She started to talk about the church she wants him to get married
in and he insisted they weren’t getting married in a church. And come to think
of it, Rebecca’s never gone to church with us.” He shrugged lightly, catching
my hands and tumbling down against the mattress with me. “Ike’s getting
married… but I don’t want to talk about Isaac right now. I want to just…” His
words trailed off.
He went for the ties of my shirt,
easily un-tying the knot I had instructed Nicole to tie loosely. Wouldn’t do to
frustrate Taylor.
Our clothes came off quickly
enough, passion igniting the fire neither of us had felt the warmth of in
months. And I was in Taylor’s arms, crying his name in pure ecstasy into the
pillows. Loving his warm body, his soft kisses, the way the sweat glistened on
his chest in the candlelight. Damp hair messily strewn over his forehead as he
brought his mouth down to mine, body slowly lowering into mine again and again
until neither of us could stand it.
It was nearing two in the
morning, when finally both exhausted, we cuddled together beneath the sheets,
one sweaty body holding another. The pants slowed to long, deep breathing, the
urgent touches turning to soft caresses. One last lingering kiss and I lay
still against him.
“I love you,” he murmured as his
eyes slid shut. I kissed his forehead lightly, leaning over him to blow out the
candles. The room plunged into darkness, his arms tightening around me again.
“I love you too, baby,” I
whispered, brushing his sweaty bangs back before I curled deeper into his arms.
I fell asleep within minutes, his warm breath brushing against my shoulder
lulling me off.
* * *
He shook my shoulder lightly
again, his kisses soft against my lips. “C’mon, Ana, wake up.” I groaned softly
and shoved him away, curling closer to my pillow. “Ana…” Slowly, I cracked one
eye open and squinted at it. “C’mon, come back with me.”
“Ugh, Taylor…”
“Please?” I didn’t have to look
at him to see the infamous pleading eyes. Didn’t have to even glance in his
direction to see how he was concocting some sort of master scheme to get me to
go with him.
“Taylor, it’s five-thirty in the
morning. We went to sleep all of three hours ago. I’m tired.”
He flashed a grin at me,
teasingly tearing away the sheets and blankets. I could see that he had already
gotten up and begun to dress.
“I guess. God, you’re
insufferable,” I shot at him as I reached for clothes in my closet. Once
covered semi-decently in a bra and underwear, I turned back to him. “So what am
I supposed to wear over there?”
“Mm, I like this.” He had risen
and now his arms were around my stomach. A soft kiss against my shoulder, then
my neck. And then I was laid down against the mattress again, his kisses
covering every visible once of flesh.
“Taylor.” I shoved him away from
me, sitting up quickly. “C’mon, we’ve got to go to your parents’. Not now.”
“We’ve got time,” he purred
softly back, reaching for me again. But I was already up and out of his reach.
“No.” I shook my head for
emphasis, reaching into my closet. Found the black pants I was looking for,
slipped them on. Quickly laced them on either side of my hips and started
searching for an appropriate shirt. I turned back to him, pausing in my search.
“Ya know, Taylor, I don’t want this relationship
turning into us fucking every minute of every day.”
He looked slightly taken aback by
my blunt statement as he sat on the bed, buttoning his shirt. A slight flush
rose in his cheeks as he ran his fingers through his loose hair. Cleared his
throat. Wrung his hands. Cleared his throat again and then looked at me. “Morgana… I… I don’t
either… I didn’t realize that…”
“Taylor, look,” I began, having
finally located the cream sweater-tank I had been looking for. The ring he had
given me the night before flashed in the first rays of sunlight as I tugged the
shirt down. “I know our relationship has been a series of new things and new
ways of doing things when it comes to the female population for you. But while
it may have seemed normal for you and your little sluts to screw around all the
time, I want to hold on to the emotional aspect of all of this too, alright?”
He nodded, standing up and
walking over to where I stood. Arms went around my waist as he held me to him.
“I’m sorry, Morgana… I didn’t even… didn’t think
before I…”
“Oh, you were thinking. Just not
with this.” I tapped his temple lightly, letting him kiss me softly in reply.
Then I walked away, into the bathroom with my make-up. Soft and sultry worked
best this time. Just like last night.
Taylor had brushed his hair and
dressed himself once I found him again, settled in a comfortable position on
the made bed. He sat up when I came back in. Then I remembered the red books in
the closet.
“Tay, I have your,”
“Sh…”
He put one finger to my lips, eyes roaming over my face, other hand sifting
through my hair. “Not today.”
I smiled, kissing him once more
and then digging my purse out of the closet. Ran down the stairs and left a
note for my mother that I’d gone to Taylor’s. Made sure we both had everything
and stepped out as Isaac was pulling into the cramped driveway.
“You guys look tired. What time
did you go to sleep?” Isaac greeted us cheerfully. Rebecca shot him a look to
shut up and turned in her seat to look at us.
“Don’t listen to him. He looks
just as tired as you do Taylor. Alright, Morgana, lemme see the ring.” She grinned as I gazed back at her,
gesturing for my hand.
“Only if I get to see yours,” I
shot back, concealing my hand.
“You told!” Rebecca shook her
head as Isaac laughed. “Alright, alright.” She stuck out her left hand, letting
me examine the beautiful diamond. It was a round cut, set off by sapphires. The
diamond was large, but not huge. It wasn’t overdone like so many other diamond
rings.
“That’s beautiful, Becca,” I told her, laughing at Taylor’s teasing comment to
his brother about the price. I extended my slender fingers.
“Wow, Tay, that’s beautiful. I
guess you two guys have some taste after all.” We exchanged laughs as both
Isaac and Taylor gave a chorus of protests. Then Rebecca turned around again;
we were now sitting in the driveway.
“Hopefully, no one’s awake,”
Isaac muttered as we got out of the car and let ourselves in. “Mom will throw a
fit if we missed everything.”
Luckily, no one was up. How’s the
line go? Nothing stirring, not even a
mouse…something like that.
Taylor hurried into the kitchen, quickly flipping on the Mr. Coffee
and getting down coffee mugs. I only shook my head. Of all his addictions…
almost addictions… the caffeine was the one thing he didn’t deny being an
addict of. And the one thing he just couldn’t give up for the life of him.
Before the first cup of coffee
had been poured, the pitter-patter of little feet on the stairs was heard.
“Santa was here! He came!” was heard gleefully echoing out of the living room.
Taylor only shook his head, taking my hand and leading me to the squealing
children. “Mac and Avie still believe in Santa.”
Mackenzie beamed proudly at me
when we entered, pointing. “I know you!” he cried, flinging himself into my
arms, presents momentarily forgotten.
I laughed, touched that he
remembered me and chose to show it with such affection. After all, he hadn’t
been my main concern on my visits by any stretch of the imagination.
“Mackie, go get everybody else up
and we can open presents, alright?” Taylor prodded the little boy gently as he
disentangled himself from me.
“Ok, Tay!” He was off again,
running to wake up his older brother and sisters and parents. I shook my head
and gave in to the impulse to fling my arms around Taylor and be held.
It was hours later; screaming had
ceased and given way to the younger kids exploring their new gifts. Zac was
captivated on his Playstation with the newest game.
It had come down to Isaac, Rebecca, Taylor and I sitting at the table with the
guys’ parents. Sipping coffee no less.
It would have been perfect if not
for the fact that Taylor’s mother was… snippy… to say the least. She was nearly
glaring at Rebecca’s left hand, to the point where the girl herself noticed and
dropped her hand to her lap. I hoped that Taylor and I would be long gone when
Diana finally started snapping questions about the wedding at the two.
No such luck was to be had.
Isaac sighed, looking over at his
mother. One long finger traced the rim of the porcelain cup. “Well, Mom,
whatever you want to say, you might as well say it.”
“You will watch your tone. I
don’t care how old you are. I am your mother.” She glared sternly at him,,
seeming to ignore Walker’s silent plea to calm down. “But considering you want
to bring this up,”
“Diana, it’s his choice,” Walker
cut in suddenly, putting his hand on his wife’s arm.
“Like hell.” She tore her arm
away and glared at the couple accusingly. I wanted to leave, but Taylor held me
where I was. Judging by the look on his face, we would only be scrutinized if
we got up. “What do you think you’re doing, not getting married in a church?
Haven’t I raised you properly?”
“Mom”-he was trying to keep his
voice steady, but was failing miserably-“you raised me just fine. But we
decided that we don’t want to be in a church.”
“What are your parents going to
say, Rebecca?” she snapped back, not bothering to hide that she was glaring at
the girl. “What do they think of this!”
“My parents would prefer that I
not be married in a church… Our family doesn’t believe in the Christian faith
and we would all feel very hypocritical.” She spoke with her eyes on her hand,
twisting the ring around and around.
Diana was silent now, but her
eyes fumed. It would appear that she had never known that about Rebecca.
“Isaac, why did you not tell me this before?”
“Because Mom.” He sounded weary
suddenly. Weary and impatient. “It doesn’t matter.”
“It doesn’t matter! Well,
Rebecca, what do you believe?”
She was calm, still as she
collected her thoughts in silence. A quick glance my way was met with a warm
smile, a supportive squeeze on her hand that Diana would never see. “You’re
asking me my religion?” she finally said, very quietly.
“Yes.”
“I’m Wiccan.”
“What, may I ask, is that?”
“I’m pagan, a witch.”
“Witchcraft! Oh no, not in this
family. There will be no witchcraft!” she declared, smashing her hand down to
the table. The coffee cups rattled and I couldn’t help but wince, hand flying
to the pentacle around my neck. “Of all the damnable things-“
“Mom, stop it,” he replied, voice
level. “And while we’re at it, you might as well know that Morgana’s
Wiccan too. And she has done Taylor more good than
this family ever has or ever would have been able to.”
“Another turning point, a fork stuck in
the road,
Time grabs you by the wrist, directs you
where to go,
So make the best of this test and don’t
ask why,
It’s not a question, but a lesson learned
in time...”
It had been nearly a
nearly a week since the blowout Christmas morning. Isaac’s blunt statement that
Morgana had helped me more than the family ever had,
or ever could, had stunned my mother into silence. And then we had all left.
Of course, what she
had helped me to overcome was beyond my mother’s reasoning. For that I was
grateful.
So here I was, sitting
on the burning roof with my feet dangling precariously on the edge, notebook in
hand. Trying to think of something good, something that would stun my brothers.
Something that would instantly be placed on the album without any further
thought. And I couldn’t come up with a God damned thing.
“I give up,” I
muttered suddenly, flinging the notebook down to the grass below. I winced as
it slapped into the pavement and glared back at me. I had to go get it before
some one opened it and read what was inside.
“Too fucking
impulsive,” I berated myself as I climbed in the open window. Dropped lightly
to my feet. Quite the gymnast these days, Taylor.
Raced down the stairs.
Scooped up the black spiral. Ran back up. Flung it down on my bed. Nodded in
satisfaction as it settled there, innocent.
“Run, that’s what I
need. A good run,” I mumbled, throwing open the closet. I rummaged around until
the shorts I wanted were located. Did I want to bother with a shirt? Nah; it’s
California.
(Call Morgana)
The idea occurred to
me suddenly and I had to grin. She would go running with me… if we got as far
as running.
Snatching up the
phone, I punched in the number to her aunt’s and started to look for a bottle
of water. When she picked up, I quickly tossed the question at her. I wanted to
go…
“Sure, Tay. Wanna go down to the beach instead of the reservoir? Give
your legs a break from the pavement,” she encouraged lightly. I could just see
a smile curling over her lips as she said her next sentence: “We could watch
the sunset after.”
“That sounds nice,” I
replied absently, locating the water and planting it on the counter. “How ‘bout
I pick you up in ten?”
“Cool… love ya, bye.”
“Love…” I stopped.
She’d already hung up, predictably running to put on some decent clothes.
Knowing her she’d been lounging in her bathing suit. Not that I would have
minded seeing her run in that.
It took nearly an hour
to drive down from the hills to Huntington Beach. LA traffic’s a bitch.
The day was
beautifully warm and sunny, the beach dotted with colorful swimsuits and
surfers alike. Nobody here seemed to care that it was December. Nope,
definitely not those two girls that just went racing by in roller blades… they
seemed to think it was summer alright.
I locked the car, top
up and everything. Shoved the car keys into my pocket. Admired my beautiful
girlfriend and grabbed her arm, ever the impulse one.
“What’re you doing?”
She looked amused as she grinned, arms slung around my neck.
“Kissing you,” I
quickly replied, leaning down to plant a soft kiss against her mouth. She
pushed me away after a moment, a chiding smile gracing her features.
“Public, Taylor.” She
wagged her fingers at me and then tugged lightly. Apparently, we really were
going to be running.
I found myself tugged
down by the water’s edge, being used for balance as Morgana
stretched. Not that I really minded her body falling precariously against mine.
Not at all.
She took off quickly
and I was suddenly glad I had taken to running so much in the last few months.
I was able to keep up with her… or was it that she kept up with me?
Miles down the beach
we ran, far past the pier, nearly to Newport Beach. Further down the coast lay
Laguna Beach, home of artists of all various talents. There was some pageant
there in the summer… paintings come to life… should ask Morgana
about that, she probably knows, I mused as I ran.
She paused in the sand
for a moment, hands on her knees as she breathed deeply. “Wanna
turn back?”
“In a few,” I
answered, letting my sweaty arms encircle her. She was hot, just as I was, her
skin moist. Loose strands of hair hung into her eyes, stringy with sweat. Eyes
looking brilliantly bright with her cheeks flushed lightly. Absolutely
beautiful.
“You’re all sweaty.”
She crinkled her nose lightly, but dropped a soft kiss on my lips anyway.
“I can think of other
times I’ve been sweaty and you haven’t minded,” I threw back in a suggestive
tone, laughing at the look she shot at me. “Besides, you’re sweaty too.”
“We’re not talking
about me.” Her eyes danced merrily, hands reaching for the damp hair hanging in
my face. The green of her ring caught my sight and I grinned. She loved the
ring.
“C’mon, Tay, let’s run
back!” She threw the words back over her shoulder, slipping out of my arms and
sprinting back down the sand. I only shook my head and then took off after her.
With the pier finally
looming fifty feet before us, we collapsed into the sand together, a pleasant
tangle of sweaty limbs.
“You know, we’re both
covered in sand now,” I told her as we lay back in the natural pillow. “I think
a swim is in order.”
“Do you know how cold that water is this time of year?”
she shrieked incredulously, laughing at me as I pretended to look surprised.
“Really? I thought it
would be like bath-water,” I replied after a moment, grinning as she glared at
me. “C’mon, let’s go back and shower. We can go out someplace closer to home.
Maybe call up to Rebecca’s and find out what her and Ike are up to,” I
suggested, tugging her to her feet. The car was parked just up the sand in the
pier parking lot.
“How are things at
your house with your mom?”
I tried not to wince
as I thought of the current state in the house. Ran my fingers through my hair
and didn’t answer until I’d been asked again. Sighed. Thought about it for
another moment. “It’s just… Mom’s… she’s upset. Ya
know, always thought that there would be a big church wedding when any of us
got married… she knows Isaac’s set on not having the ceremony in the church. And
then he threw out the thing with you and now she’s looking at us. She knows
we’re serious and stuff… thinks that we might just be waiting until the number
eighteen rolls around. And then there goes her second son, not married in the
church.” I ran my fingers through my hair again and chewed at my lip. I should
have just told her it’s like a war-zone ‘cause that would have been faster and
simpler, I mulled.
“Taylor,” she said
slowly, her voice almost tight, “if we do… if we ever get married, no church, right?”
I bit my lip again and
looked over at her. I respected the fact she didn’t believe what I did and that
was fine… but I had always envisioned anyone
in my family having the big church wedding, myself included. “No, Morgana, it doesn’t have to be in a church.”
She seemed to relax
slightly, leaning back against the soft upholstery. Her hand reached for mine,
fingers lacing in between my own.
“What if… what if the
ceremony was to be in a church, but not an actual church wedding? Just inside a
cathedral,” I said tentatively as I shot a glance over at her.
“I dunno,
Taylor… I just… church’s aren’t my thing. If you want to be on religious
ground, why not have a ceremony in some old ruins? It could be outside, yet
still holy, and everyone’s happy.”
I looked over at her,
amazed. Why hadn’t anybody else thought of that?
“That would actually
probably appease my mother,” I replied softly, giving her a curious look. “Why?
Are you thinking that we might…”
“I dunno
Taylor. I’ve never felt this way about anybody before. We’ve got something that
I don’t think a lot of people ever have.” she said quietly after a few moments,
her eyes catching mine with a smile.
Satisfied with her
answer, I reached for the radio dial and tuned it to KROQ and prepared myself
for more of the punk music that only annoyed me more with each passing day.
* * *
“She’s being
unreasonable!” Isaac announced angrily, letting his hand fall heavily onto the
tabletop. “This isn’t her choice! I don’t need her permission to get married!
I’m twenty-fucking-years-old!”
And acting like a two
ear old…
I sighed, tightening
my grip on Morgana as she huddled closer. We were all
at Rebecca’s, and for the last hour, Isaac had been rambling on and on about
the wedding. It had started with an innocent enough question from Rebecca to Morgana: Would she be the Maid of Honor?
And that had set Isaac
off. He didn’t know who he was going to have stand up with him. He wanted it to
be me or Jason, but our mother would insist on having me in the wedding. And
what about the rest of the family?
It had just gotten
worse.
Now he was entering
the reasons why she was unreasonable. He was old enough to decide things for
himself.
“Hon, calm down,”
Rebecca cut in, one hand going to his arm. Undoubtedly, she had heard her share
of all of it as well. Most likely, she was more sick of hearing it than the
rest of us. “I’m going to go make a drink. Does anybody else want one?”
“Where’s the ID?” I
threw at her, a teasing grin spread over my mischievous features.
“You think ID’s a problem
here?” she threw back, crossing the room to the open kitchen. “You guys want
anything?”
“Something strong!”
Isaac called back to her, rolling his eyes and then closing them. She only
shook her head and looked at me and Morgana.
“Coke and rum,” Morgana replied after a moment, then cuddled back up to me.
I nodded, not really caring. Coke and rum sounded just fine.
Rebecca came back
sipping what smelt like tequila and thrust some odd-looking concoction in front
of Isaac. She sat down a few feet away from him, visibly annoyed when she
wasn’t offered so much as a thank-you from her fiancé. Instead, he made a
disgusting display of downing the entire contents of the glass in one giant
gulp.
“Well,” Rebecca began,
shooting me an obviously forced smile. I had to give her credit. “On a happier
note… how’s everything going with the album and stuff?”
“Miserable!” Isaac
declared fiercely. “You”-finger pointing sharply at me-“and your God damned
perfectionist shit. Every fucking song over and over, never good enough. Becca, grab me another drink, will ya?”
He shoved the empty glass towards here. I noticed it was all she could do not
to snatch it away.
“Isaac, if you want
your pieces to be mediocre, you can do them once and be done with it. I’m sorry
if my desire to have something with my name on it be at least decent before the
entire world gets it offends you so,” I replied evenly through gritted teeth.
Ignored the pleading tug on my arm from my girlfriend. Stared at my
quickly-becoming drunk brother.
He didn’t have
anything to say, just snatched his drink from Rebecca. She didn’t bother to try
and hide her disgust this time and when he demanded she get him another, she
told him to get it himself.
What a happy couple.
Of course, he got up
and brought back a bottle of 110-proof vodka, which he proceeded to drink
straight from the glass neck. His greasy fingerprints soon obscured the
decorative etching. And there he sat, in all his glowering glory.
Rebecca seemed to have
had it. She merely sat in silence, not glaring at him, but then again, she
didn’t even glance in his direction. Instead she was looking intently at Morgana, and the two seemed to be sharing some sort of
conversation through looks. Whatever it was, I sure as hell didn’t understand.
Suddenly, I was left
alone with my brother. Morgana and Rebecca were going
to the store for some snacks, maybe a few movies. We could all spend the night
there. Me and Morgana in the spare room Rebecca had
never bothered to turn into a study and contained nothing but a futon. And
maybe if Isaac got his act together he’d be with her in her bed. I was thinking that the couch would be where
he slept tonight.
Another swill off the
bottle as he turned glazed eyes to me. I knew that look… it had been there
morning after morning, staring back at me, waiting for the ever faithful Visine
to correct the problem. Gotta have those baby blues
ready for another night on the prowl.
“So Taylor,”-voice a
long way from steady-“What’s Mom been saying when I’m not around? Has she been
demanding we build a giant pyre and burn ‘em both?”
He cackled horrifically, throwing his head back so hard it was a wonder it
didn’t crack right open and spill his alcohol polluted blood everywhere.
“No.”
“Oh, really? She’d
prefer to drown them? Ya know, she knows how much you
love that reservoir… probably an ideal place to drown someone. That water’s so
deep, no one would ever know until Morgana’s ebony
hair started to stream from their faucets and-“
“Stop!” I shouted at
him suddenly, jumping to my feet. I ripped the bottle of vodka away from him
and threw it into the sink, pleased it shattered into a million pieces. Now it
was my turn to jab a finger at him. “Mom has been quiet about the witchcraft!
And I don’t want to hear anything about anybody dying! Do you understand? The
day after tomorrow is New Year’s Eve. You are getting married in May. Grow up
and learn to deal with people!”
I stormed out of the
room, flinging back the French doors that led to Rebecca’s small balcony. But
before they slammed shut, Isaac’s jeering voice rose to meet me: “But Taylor, I
would think you would support me! After all, how many times did you drink to
deal? Or was it your whores that helped you deal, Taylor? Huh? Know any good
numbers that I can-” Doors shut and his dribble cut off abruptly.
Well, it’s not the
silence of the tree back home, I thought dully. Cars whirring past me stories
below, the ever present, and just so lovely, view of the freeway not so far
from the horizon. Some one slamming a door and shouting. People chattering away
on balconies both above and below.
But I guess this is
California for you. I’ve found the only peace for miles on a little balcony
precariously attached to a blob of cement.
Isaac’s words stung
sharply as I leaned heavily against the metal railing. It gave slightly under
me and then it was still.
He was still bitter
with me over the past, it would appear. But then again, come to think of it,
wasn’t everybody that knew about it? Kira and Tom
weren’t, but they hadn’t really had to experience it as heavily as my two
brothers. Both of them were still bitter and sarcastic with me at times. Zac
had thrown quite a few comments that bit just as deep as Isaac’s latest.
I sighed, folding my
arms beneath my chin and gazing out to the smog-clogged horizon. I wished they
would just let it go. I had changed, and it sure as hell had been a vast
improvement over my previous state. Didn’t I get any credit for pulling myself
out of all the addictions known to man, without rehab or a tic-tac-toe playing
shrink?
Apparently not.
But Taylor, you
still beat yourself up for it. If you can’t let it go, what makes you
expect them to? We’ve been through this all before. The past it the past, yes,
and it can’t be changed. Yet Morgana may have put it
best in her bitter statement, “Well, Taylor, that’s the point!”
Hours later, wrapped
in her arms, I couldn’t contain any of it any longer. The tears came, the
gasping breath as I struggled to make some sense of all of it. She stroked my
back lightly, wiped away my tears. She kissed me in silence; nothing to say.
Because I knew that she had been right that afternoon. It was the point
and I was going to have to live with my actions for the rest of my life. And no
amount of drugs or girls or Hollywood would ever change that.
“I can’t tell you who to idolize,
You think it’s almost over,
But it’s only on the rise,
Calling, calling,
For something in the air,
Calling, calling I know you must be there...”
New Year’s Eve over and done
with. The champagne poured and bottles crashed into the trash. Seventy-dollar
bottles smashed into cheap plastic trash bins. Candles from Illuminations,
($120 for seven
or eight candles)
burnt down and even dripping a
little into the carpeting. The year 2001 upon us all and where was I? The only
place I wanted to be.
It had to be nearing three in the
morning as I lay, warm and snug, in Taylor’s arms. He was awake still, laying
flat on his back and staring at the ceiling. Eyes absolutely captivating with
the moonlight shimmering in them through open curtains.
“Tay,” I whispered softly, one
arm over his stomach and the other brushing his hair gently. Still damp, I
noticed with a faint smile. “I’m leaving the day after tomorrow and-“
“Not another word,” he cut in
suddenly, breaking his examination of the molding and cuddling close to me. He
tugged the blankets, the thick down blankets hotels like this one placed on the
beds, up to our shoulders and snuggled close to me. Dropped a soft kiss on my
cheek. Closed his eyes. Sighed.
“Tay, I’m serious.”
His eyes snapped open again, a
twinge of sourness hiding in their depths. “Why can’t we just talk about this
tomorrow? It was just such a nice night and I just want to go to sleep
remembering it. Can’t this wait until the morning?”
“It is morning,” I muttered back,
pointing to the clock on the side table. 2:57. “Tay, I just… I miss you when
you’re gone, ya know?”
“Of course I know. I miss you
when I can’t be with you, you know that!” He sounded slightly exasperated with
me, his grip on my stomach losing some of its gentleness.
“I just… I just wanted to ask
you… when do you think we’ll see each other again? You’re out here until what,
February they’re saying now? Then comes mixing. Where’re you going for that?
And then the promo. And then the tour.”
“Morgana,
I promise you, I will make time for us. If that means that a bunch of
seven-year olds and their dads have to wait another week for the tour, so be
it. I was serious when I mentioned going to the South Pacific. I don’t know
where I’ll be at that point, but wherever it is, I’m going to get on a plane,
pick you up, and then we’re going to disappear.” His voice was soft, yet
urgent. When I looked back over at him, I saw the desperation that was in his
words, the need to have this done. It would be good for both of us, I thought
with a smile. Some time alone, away from cell-phones and pagers and managers
and fans.
“You really think we’ll be able
to pull it off?” I asked lightly, turning to face him. I picked up the cross
around his neck, the tip of my nail tracing the patterns I knew so well.
“I don’t care to think if we can
or not. I just know we will.” He gently pushed me back to the mattress and
dropped a few kisses over my collarbones. Drew the blankets up around us and
lay still beside me again. “I love you,” he whispered quietly, lips tickling my
skin.
“I love you too.” My eyes pricked
lightly, but I just closed them. No tears, I cried too fucking much as it was.
No more. Too many tears over Taylor, too many tears over Matt. Too many fucking
tears.
Up and gone from the hotel by
noon the next morning. Back to Rebecca’s to drop her off. Long good-bye between
her and Isaac. Obviously, their New Year’s hadn’t been as bad as it had been
looking like it might have been
On to my aunt’s to drop me off.
Taylor would be by later that night. Said he was taking me out because it was
our last night together for God only knew how long.
Another lengthy good-bye. Then
the brothers Hanson were gone.
Inside, everyone was up, to my
surprise. I had figured Nicole would still be sleeping long past two. But no,
she was awake and sitting in the kitchen with a bowl of fruit.
“Have a good time?” she called
out as I dumped my purse down on the stairs. “You look tired!” A devilish grin
and some jesting laughter.
“Let’s put it this way, Nicole, I
think I had a more entertaining night that you did.”
“I dunno…
Mom and Auntie drunk…. that’s pretty funny.” Her eyes twinkled with mischief as
our mother entered, steaming coffee hovering just under her nose, black as
night. Her eyes were red and puffy, face ashen. Mom, Mom, Mom…
She merely stumbled passed with
her coffee to the couch. Gingerly sat down. Closed her eyes and sipped at her
coffee some more. Nicole and I exchanged amused grins.
We went out onto the back deck,
sitting down in the warmth of the sunshine. I swore that the smog only made it
hotter.
“So, Ana, how was your evening
with Taylor?” Her face was lit up with jest, a hidden
I-know-something-you-don’t smile. I was puzzled, but answered her question.
“It was great. You know I always have
a good night when I’m with him. What’d you do last night besides watch the
Mom-and-Auntie episode?”
She laughed, the knowing smile
coming back. “Well, I wasn’t here all night.”
“Really? Where’d you go?” I asked
curiously.
“Well, I was really bored anyway
and Zac called up here looking for Taylor. I told him you guys had already left
and he asked if I wanted to do something. Said he was bored, figured I was, and
neither of us should be bored like that on New Year’s Eve.” She shot me a
delighted look. “He’s really nice.”
I just gaped at her. I wonder if
Taylor knows about this? Oh, that would not be right… Zac and Nicole? No
fucking way!
“Nic…
well, what’d you guys do?” I asked tentatively after a moment.
“You can relax Morgana. We’re not messing around. Friends. We sat around,
chilled by the pool over at their place, played Playstation.
Oh yeah, and found some drawings Taylor’s done of you. They’re really good.”
“Drawings?” I eyed her, my
curiosity peaked. “What kind of drawings?”
“Hmm… there were a few of you
sleeping. One from Halloween, so Zac told me. Some costume you wore. One of you
where he’d made you into a faery. They’re good, Ana.
Really good.”
“Where’d you find them?”
“There was a sketchbook on his
bed and we started flipping through it.”
“You shouldn’t go through his
things,” I admonished lightly, wincing at the old story of another time Zac had
gone through Taylor’s things.
She frowned, giving me an odd
look. “There’s something going on between him and Taylor, isn’t there?
Something happened.”
She was good.
“Yeah, stuff happened.”
“Like what?”
“Nic,
it’s really not for me to… alright, look, you can’t go running home with this
to anyone. Not Bianca! I mean it, Nic.” I gave her a
stern look. A flick of her wrist and an annoyed look prompted me to continue.
“When Taylor was involved in all
of his… before, ya know? Well, Zac went through his
stuff once and found all of Taylor pills and drugs and all that. Taylor caught
him and beat him up pretty bad. They’ve kind of been on the outs since. It’s getting
better, actually, it has gotten a lot better. But it’s hard between
them.”
I stopped, biting my lip.
Remembered Taylor crying the other night after Isaac had thrown out his callous
comments. Remembered the looks of hatred I had caught Zac shooting at his older
brother early in our relationship. The looks of fear that the kid still held in
his warm chocolate eyes.
“He… I asked him about Taylor, ya know? I was curious. And he shut up real quick, gave me
the cold shoulder.” She sighed, flicking a piece of dirt off the railing into
the hillside below. “What a mess.”
“Yeah,” I muttered back quietly,
“a mess is probably the best way of phrasing it. Those books I had? Remember
them? They were Taylor’s diaries, with all that crap. That’s why I was so
upset. Because I had to read his first-hand account of all that horror.”
“I called him,” she confessed in
a quite voice, now refusing to so much as glance in my direction. “When you
were reading that stuff, ya know? Cause I was
worried. I think he was upset…”
“He called that night,” I told
her. Morgana, Morgana, Morgana… what a mess that time was, I thought wearily. “And
I just shot him down and told him not to call me. I’d call him back. And that
was it. I dunno. It’s just odd with him sometimes.
Because of his past, I guess.”
“What’d you mean?” I shrugged.
“Well, how’s it odd?”
“It’s just… he’s hard to be with.
More insecure about our relationship than anybody would ever believe. He’s
dependent on me in the strangest way I’ve ever seen. Needs me to be there for him
at any given moment. So vulnerable, yet this incredibly tough shell that hides
all the weakness. It’s unsettling sometimes to be with him because of how he
is. So passionate one moment and then just there, staring vacantly, the next.
It’s disconcerting.” I sighed in frustration. In trying to explain this to my
sister, I had served to only babble on incoherently.
“But what does that have to do
with his past?” She flicked lint off of her smiley-faced pajamas before looking
back over at me. I shrugged, staring off the deck. It was most likely just a
facet of my imagination, but I could envision the ocean sparkling there, just
beyond the skyline of LA.
“Used to hiding behind a rough
and tough I’m-a-bad-boy façade, I suppose. Hard for him to let a person inside.
Hard to imagine that the girl in his arms at night actually means it and knows
enough to mean it when she says ‘I love you’ to him. Probably all the more
difficult for him to comprehend that when we’re in bed together, it means
something. That all the rushes he gets these days are adrenaline related and
not from some little white pill. It’s just got to be a big switch for him from
the lifestyle he was used to before me. Hard to adapt to, and it makes things
strained between us sometimes.”
I paused, looking down at my
rumpled black skirt and shirt. Same clothes Taylor had oh-so-carefully pulled
off my body and folded neatly as I watched, his own clothes already discarded.
The meticulous folding had done little good against the heap they’d been
reduced to. “Of course, the whole celebrity thing doesn’t make life any easier.
It’s not too romantic to know that you’ve got millions of girls who’d literally
kill you because you’ve got your boyfriend.”
“Aw, Ana.” Nicole wrapped her
arms around me, a soft sigh escaping her lips. “He loves you. Zac told me
that.”
“What’d Zac tell you?” I asked
curiously as she pulled back. Leaned out over the railing of the deck and let
my long arms dangle.
“He told me that you’re just what
Taylor needed. Something about Isaac being right about something he’d said at
dinner Christmas Day about you. What was that about?”
“Isaac told his mother that I had
helped Taylor more than anyone else in the family had or would have ever been
able to,” I answered after a moment, a slight daze in my voice. Zac knew about
that?
“Oh. Well, anyway, Zac said that
you’re the best thing that’s happened for that family. Taylor’s more pleasant,
which makes things easier between him and Ike and Zac, which in turn makes the
entire household a lot calmer. Said Taylor’s so devoted to you that he’s
amazed. Never seen him like this about anything else except the band. He even
thinks Taylor would give up the band if it came down to that.”
“I would never ask him to do
that!” I replied instantly, shaking my head. “No, no, no!”
“I know. Everyone knows that. But
you wouldn’t get the chance to ask him the way Zac sees it. He’d just do it and
tell you to get over it. Easier to ask for forgiveness than permission, ya know?” Nicole gave me a soft look, the wistful gaze I
was just about sick of having directed at me in her eyes. “It must be nice to
have that kind of love.”
“It has its good things, yeah. I
love Taylor and I love having him love me. But it’s not easy. You know the old
thing, love hurts? It’s so true. I love him so much it hurts, hurts for so many
reasons. It’s nice, it’s wonderful… that’s sad, I’m a writer and I can’t come
up with something besides the overly generic nice… it’s enthralling, I guess.
Ah, that’s not much better. I just can’t describe it! Point being, everything
about it is just amazing-while you’ve got it. Cause when he’s not with me, that
just fucking sucks.” I laughed dryly, standing to stretch. “Confuse you much?”
“Nah, I’m used to it.” Her long
raven locks so like my own fluttered back down over her shoulders as she shook
her head. Jade eyes laughing at me. Cute little mouth just a teasing, jabbing,
little grin.
“I’m gonna
go take a shower,” I called over my shoulder as I walked back into the house.
Shower: nice hot water streaming down over me, massaging my back with that
nice, city water pressure. Ah, just delightful.
Once showered and re-dressed in
loose black pants and a fitted black tee, I was downstairs again. The cool
breeze whipped up the long curtains, waving at my napping mother. Still
sleeping. Probably drank some of that herbal tea she was telling me about
yesterday, I mused, wandering into the kitchen. Sure enough, an already used
tea bag rested innocently in the sink.
I decided to write, staring at
the emptiness of the countertop. Don’t quite know why I wanted to write after
gazing at the blank counter. Maybe it was the same reason so many writers find
solace in a blank white wall. Solace and inspiration.
But first I had to find my
notebook and a black pen. That in itself could be a very difficult task.
Yet that would give me time to
think about it. Somewhat new story, this one concerning the likes of a killer.
A killer with a serious case of schizophrenia. A killer who is searching for
himself.
Interestingly twisted.
Surprisingly, I located what I
wanted with great ease. Remembered Taylor telling me of his escape on the roof.
Swung myself onto the stucco tiles with great ease and settled back with my
notebook. I had left off with the cop just approaching the newest murder scene.
Well, this was going to be pretty interesting.
Mike was
uncertain as he approached the ghastly scene. This guy sure as hell was
twisted. Another girl it seemed. Yes, the breasts exposed to the frigid New
York City winter proved it all. Nipples still hardened from the cold.
Disgusting.
He wanted
to throw up right then, but the seasoned cop inside him told him not to. Just
hold it down. He’d seen this before and he’d be damned if he didn’t see it
again.
“Hey, kid,
get out of here!” he shooed, waving his hands at the random teenager that had
paused in his adventures to gawk. Medical examiner was kneeling by the girl
now, carefully laying a sheet over her exposed body. Not like she would really
care either way if every cop in the country got to see her perfect little body.
Modesty was no longer part of what was going on inside her lifeless body.
The kid
flipped up his middle finger, yelled, “The pigs are flying!” and took off over
the sheet of ice known as 5th Ave.
“Fucking
kid,” Mike muttered under his breath, advancing to the prone figure. Snow
crunched under his heavy boots and he wondered if there was anyone who was
going to miss this girl. That last murder had been of a stripper with no
family. Her only friends had been the girls that she worked with.
The
medical examiner seemed to have finished his quick over-look of the body,
moving out of the way so Mike could get his turn,
Alright,
not like you haven’t seen this before, he told himself as he grasped the sheet
in one leather–clad hand.
It was just
as bad as he had feared. Murdered just the same as the last one. She had been
brutally raped, with bruises spread well over her thighs, swollen to a
thickness that resembled an obese woman rather than the slight figure under the
white sheet. Deep purples, blues, and that repulsive yellow that only bruises
carried. Made Mike think of the putrid filth he’d seen in his youth floating
down the Mississippi.
Blood,
still damp, had spotted the stark, sterile white of the sheet. He didn’t even
want to know how they got the bloodstains out every time, unfailingly, and
returned the sheets to the homicide department. Thanks, appreciated much.
Cuts ran
across her abdomen, most likely not that deep and done with an extremely sharp
knife. Mike knew about knifes. Had quite the collection at home himself. But
the cuts had split her lower stomach clean open, from one hip protruding
sharply out of her skin to the other. Clean bone, bleached it seemed. Yes, the
burns on the skin seemed to indicate that the sicko
had given her burns as well.
She was
sliced again from her throat to her bellybutton. Ribs cracked roughly apart,
gaping away with an almost maniacal grin Mike had grown used to imagining the
corpses gave him.
Alright, enough of that for now.
I didn’t want to get myself deep into the story. There were too many disturbing
things in it I didn’t want to be consumed with thoughts of on my last night
with Taylor.
Speaking of which, there was the
phone ringing now. Probably him, ready to whisk me off someplace that was far
too expensive for my taste. Too good for me. Of course, he fit in. This was the
city of the beautiful people, so it was only fitting that he found himself
quite comfortable. But once again, I was just a nobody from a little shit town
in the middle of nowhere.
Making
strange faces,
Tread
slowly for I know,
It’s
a thousand miles to go without blinking,
Gravitate
spaceward,
Find
a home for my head from my basement
No
darkness ever left…”
She had seemed uneasy
the entire night. Picked at her food, all meticulously laid out on her plate to
closer resemble a work of art rather food. Eyes racing back and forth, up and
down, all over the restaurant. It would appear she just couldn’t relax.
I shouldn’t have taken
her here, I thought sourly as we got into the car. It’s just not her world and
she’s not comfortable here. Yeah, that’s great Taylor. But that’s one of the
only restaurants in town you can go into without an improv
autograph session, my embittered thoughts continued now that we were silently
in the car.
“Morgana…
I’m sorry… I-” I ran my fingers through my hair, pausing before putting the key
into the ignition. “I just-”
“It’s not my world
Taylor,” she said quietly, talking into the window, her beaded wine shawl
pulled tight around her shoulders. Midnight-blue dress beneath it. Diamond
earrings, the only ones she had, glittering in the street lights.
(Not
my world… Not my world…)
Just what I had been
thinking only moments before. I remembered the quote I had heard in some Cinderella
movie: “A fish may love a bird, but where would they live?”
We’re not that
different! I quickly admonished myself. You’re still a person! Christ Taylor,
you get on a stage a couple nights a month and sing your ass off. You get
behind those keyboards, the drums when Zac needs a break… of course, the fans
never know that. It’s just a cutesy little thing we do… no, Zac just can’t
handle it. So in comes Big Brother Taylor to help him out.
There are ways around
these things. If you remember, Taylor, in the story of Cinderella, she gets the
guy in the end, I reminded myself sternly, shifting the car into fifth, taking
the turn for PCH. A nice ocean-side cruise might be just what we needed after
the slightly disastrous dinner.
“Tay, where are we
going?” her voice interrupted, sounding more than just a little weary.
“The beach. It’s a
nice night,” I said quietly, trying to ignore the fact that I almost wanted to
say it as a tentative question. I sure as hell didn’t want to upset her. This
was our last night together for months.
She didn’t say
anything and when I glanced over at her, she was vacantly staring out the
window again, watching the freeway shrink slightly to the two-lane road that
was California’s Pacific Coast Highway.
Once she had told me
that to her, the beach was solitude. But it was also interesting that she had
told me that, yet the first place she had mentioned was the beach on that
not-so-distant July afternoon. To her, the beach was loneliness, isolation,
just the rawest elements of the earth giving one last hurrah to us humans. She
had told me she would never be able to live land-locked, ever. Being in
Oklahoma nearly drove her nuts at times, knowing that it was hundreds upon
hundreds of miles to the ocean. She needed it to be complete, needed the
crashing of the waves and the vast expanse of blue stretching before her.
It was the very first
place she thought to take me. One of her most sacred and private place, and
that was where she wanted our first date out of the city to be.
Then again, I hadn’t
waited that terribly long to take her with me over the well-worn russet dirt to
that ancient tree. It was there that I found what she did in the ocean. I
looked down over the city of Tulsa and where she saw the glint of the sun in
the water, I saw it in the cars and the house windows. Her cosmic breadth was
the ocean stretching to the horizon, brilliant sea green like her own eyes.
Mine was rugged, tanned to the color of earth with the sky to reflect my gaze.
I saw the wind move the earth into waves while the moon churned up the ocean
before her eyes.
We really weren’t that
different when it came down to it. She craved the loneliness and fled from it
at the same time. And what had I done in the past? I had wanted nothing more
than to be alone after night after night of the screaming thousands. Wanted to
be in utter solitude as soon as the lines dwindled and the dads packed their
daughters into SUV’s and drove them home to their normal lives. But the second
I found myself in the grip of that utter lonesomeness, I went running into the
arms of my dearest enemies: booze, drugs, and sluts. Keep your friends close
and your enemies closer, eh?
I’d learned that one real quick. And now I
wanted to un-learn it. I didn’t want my enemies any closer to me than they
already were. Enemies… demons… any of it. I wanted it all to leave me alone, so
I could concentrate on my relationship with Morgana.
The look on her face in that moment was enough to convince me of that.
It was a silent ride
up the coast. The further north I drove, the air grew chillier and the wind
whipped stronger through the cracked windows. The cliffs dropped steeply away,
old rickety stairs the only way to get down to the sand.
“Tay, it’s kinda cold out here,” Morgana
murmured as I opened the door for her.
“I’ll keep you warm,”
I whispered back in her ear, wrapping her into a toasty hug. She shot me a
look, but let me lead her over to the stairs precariously balanced on the
craggy rocks. Her heels were discarded quickly, hanging from the straps in two
of her delicate fingers.
I discovered the sand
was cool upon shedding my Docs. We left the shoes beside the stairs and
wandered further down the beach. Even in the darkness, the white foam of the
waves shone brightly against the night’s heavy blanket of blackness.
Morgana
shivered again as I wrapped my arms around her waist, resting my chin in the
hollow of her shoulder. “I love you,” I whispered softly, laying my cheek
against her shoulder and looking up into her emerald eyes.
“I love you too, Tay.”
Her voice was quiet, barely audible over the crash of the tide. She turned,
arms draping around my shoulders and cheek pressed to my neck. “I’m going to
miss this the most,” she continued, my fingers stroking her back lightly
through the thin silk of her indigo dress.
“I know.” This simple
moment, alone, just the two of us, holding each other without having to worry
about anything else. It was the most unpretentious thing I could think of, yet
it meant the world to us both. I squeezed my arms around her more tightly,
brushing aside her loose bangs to drop a fierce, yet gentle kiss on her cheek.
“I’m going to miss this too.”
“I’ll see you again,
right?”
“What!” I stepped back
from her suddenly, feeling sorry for it when I saw her shiver. But I couldn’t
move any closer. Her comment had stung. “What the fuck Morgana?!”
“I… I just… well, it’s
going to be a while before we see each other again. And I… I was just wondering
if we’d be able to make it. You took me into a world that just wasn’t mine
tonight and it was miserable. I can’t be Taylor Hanson’s girlfriend. I can only
be Tay’s.” She was wringing her hands, tugging on the
beaded fringe of her shawl. Head bent forward to let her long locks shield her
face.
“Jesus, Ana!” I
snapped in disgust, turning away from her and pressing my palms tightly against
my temples. I spun around, pointing an accusing finger at her. “Maybe if you
stopped thinking about me as Taylor Hanson it wouldn’t bother you so fucking
much!” The words were barreling out of my mouth before I could even control
them. “Because if you did in fact think of me as just Tay or whatever then this
wouldn’t be such a fucking issue! It would have been a damned night out at a
nice place!”
I regretted everything
I had just said as soon as the words left my lips. The tears that rose in her
eyes, yet never spilled over, were the tiny shreds of glass embedded in my
chest.
“Alright, Taylor,” she
began, voice tight, frigid, “maybe this is hard for you to understand. But I
can’t just look at you as Tay. Because I’ve got thousands upon thousands of
girls reminding me in their screeches that you are Taylor Hanson.” Furious eyes
glared back at me through the darkness, eyes that had been ardently filled with
love only a few moments ago.
“This has never been an
issue before. Why is it now all of a sudden this tremendous problem that’s got
you thinking we’re going to break up?” I demanded in frustration, throwing up
my hands. I forced myself to shove them deep into my pockets. The desire to
punch something was growing quite strong. And my choices were her and the
cliffs, neither of which I wanted my fist to come in contact with.
“Taylor, I’ve been
thinking it all along. It just wasn’t thrown in my face until now,” she
confessed quietly, wringing her hands again. She was nervous looking, exposed.
“I just… I’m a nobody, ya know? I’ve thought that
from the beginning.”
“You’re anything but
nobody to me,” I replied tenderly, the anger melting away as I gazed at her,
gone like the tides that were currently receding from the rocky coast. I
gingerly stepped forward, glad she walked into my arms. Happy that she pressed
her cheek to my chest and let her arms drape over my shoulders. “You mean
everything to me, alright? If you wanted me to, I’d drop the entire thing right
now.” The statement was out before I even realized the meaning. Before it ever
dawned on me that I meant it.
“I don’t want you to.
I’d rather walk away from you than ask you to give up your career.”
“I’d rather give up
the damned career. Can’t buy love.” Silence, save for the crash of the waves.
She sighed deeply, snuggling closer to me.
“I’m just not
comfortable in your world. Honestly. I don’t like being stared at. I don’t like
being the center of attention. I don’t like overly expensive things surrounding
me. Yeah, I come from a family with money, but we’re not millionaires… my aunt,
yeah, but not the rest of us. Your world is different. You’re a month and a
half younger than me and you’ve got more money than I’ll ever have. And we’re
not that terribly old. You revel in the spotlight; I shrink away from it.”
Quiet again, her
breath nearly in sync with the smashing of the waves.
“I don’t revel in the
spotlight,” I said after a moment. “I live in it for seventy-five percent of my
life, maybe more. But I don’t revel in. It’s a job. You waitress. I sing. Yeah,
I’ve got money. So what? Money can’t buy the things that are important in life.
My past taught me that lesson very well. No amount of anything I bought made me
happy. It took you to do that.”
“I’ve made you happy?”
“Incredibly.” I held
her tightly, the salty ocean air mixing together with the ever-familiar scent.
The wind whipped up again, her body convulsing in shivers. That was it; no
amount of my cuddling would warm her. It was getting late anyway and she had a
day of traveling ahead of her. I, of anyone, should have known how exhausting that
could be. “C’mon, let’s go back. You’re cold.”
She shot me a sheepish
grin, her arm still around my waist as we advanced back up the pillowy sand. Located our shoes. Struggled against the
fierce wind rising off the waves back up the weather-beaten staircase and
crossed the pavement barefoot.
Safely back in the
car, I reached for the heat, noticing Morgana still
shivered. Paused before backing out of the parking space to give her another
sweet, lingering kiss. Hoped that whatever had upset her so much that night had
been gotten out of her system and we could say good-bye the next day without
arguing about anything. That was most definitely not the way I wanted to remember
her.
Another silent ride
back to the hills, the lights all out once we got to her aunt’s, save for a
lone lantern over the front door. Inside we went, up the stairs, into her room.
Everything hushed, with the witching hour upon the coast.
A match flared up in
the darkness, a beacon to the burning eyes of Morgana.
She carefully lit the two bed-side candles, slipping her shawl off her
shoulders and discarding it to the chair. Looked at me for a quick second and
then let the dress fall to the ground. Put on her pajamas. Waited for me to
crawl under the sheets with her.
I paused briefly,
removing my pants and shirt. I had never bothered to replace the Docs on my
feet, but the sand had been brushed free long before they found their way under
her soft sheets. I wanted to be there with her that night, our last night
together. I wanted to fall into a deep sleep in her arms and wake up to those
shining eyes I loved to gaze into.
But it was long passed
the exchange of ‘I love you’s’ and her breath fading
to a gentle rhythm. It was long passed the tears that eventually spilled over
her pretty eyes.
I got up carefully,
cautious of waking her. I didn’t want her to catch me leaving. So many other
girls had, but this was one I really didn’t want to see me walking away from
her bed. I’d be back in the morning with the assurance I had only gone
downstairs to call my brother.
Jacket thrown on in
haste, I slunk down the stairs, shoving the guilt deep down. Couldn’t deal with
any of it. Didn’t want to have to. Didn’t. I would resort to my all-time
favorite bullshit activity: wandering the city streets late at night.
Down through the hills
I went. Parked the car in some old lot with a broken sign. The spray-painted
‘free parking’ was all that I cared about.
Over the cracked
pavement, the crumbling sidewalks. Not bothering to hurry passed the corner
whores, knowing full well that they were no longer a temptation to me. In fact,
they disgusted me.
Let my mind trace the
patterns that history had woven over the city that was like no place else in
the world, yet strangely identical to New York and Paris and London and Milan
and Tokyo and… Well, I’d been to so many I’d begun to lose track. Yeah it was
warmer here than New York, and the people were a little nicer… but then again,
wasn’t most of New York’s coldness just a bitter reality? New York was far from
the surfin’ in the sun attitude of California. LA was
but an hour from some of the greatest beaches in the world. New York was an
hour’s drive from the one of the most difficult and prestigious schools on this
chunk of rock hurtling through space.
A school that would
also take me in an instant because I was Taylor Hanson, so maybe the fakeness
had spread.
More whores on the
next street corner. This time, they sent a faint chill down my spine. The girls
were young, sixteen at the most, all looking horribly undernourished. Homeless,
I thought with the shake of my head. Doing this because it’s all they can do to
get a warm bed to sleep in. I’d come across enough of those girls in my time.
Had let them sleep while I wandered the city after our adventures together.
I hadn’t been that
cold hearted.
One of them smiled as
I passed, teeth surprisingly white for a street girl. Probably the only clean
thing on her. But it was her smile that nearly made me freeze in my tracks. I
had seen that smile before. The girl I’d helped to murder, she had smiled at me
like that.
She was following me
down the street now, probably thinking that any guy wandering the Hollywood
streets, this section of town anyway, at this hour of the night had to be
looking for a nice piece of ass like her. She was pretty under the grime
of the streets, the age that only a job so hideous as the one she had could
bring. So I stopped, turned, fished into my pocket, handed her the fifty I
found and kept walking.
She called after me a
moment later, “Hey, Taylor!”
Dammit, I’d
forgotten about that. Like I ever could.
I stopped, looking at
her. Watched in sympathy as she struggled to run in her ridiculously high
heels. “Why, why’d you give this to me?” She waved the fifty in my face,
grasping the money tightly in her fist. Probably the most money she’s had in a
couple weeks.
I shrugged, then
turned to go again. Her hand clamped down on my shoulder and I paused, spinning
around on my heel. She bit her lip, muttered, “Thanks.” Looked down at the
ground. Looked back at me. “You, you don’t want anything?”
“Nope.” I shook my
head for emphasis, wanting to leave. Talking to an underage prostitute was not
my idea of a night of wandering the streets.
“Can I just ask, um,
well, what’re you doing out here? It’s like three in the morning! Isn’t your
mother worried?” she asked after a moment, sounding slightly wistful. Probably
wishing she had a mother that worried about her. Maybe even wishing she had a
mother.
“No. I’m actually
supposed to be at my girlfriend’s.”
“Why aren’t you with
her? I can’t believe she’d let you out of her sight. Especially in this town.”
She cackled horrifically, gesturing to our surroundings. Broken down buildings
with plywood for windows.
“She’s going back home
tomorrow and I won’t see her for months. I just… I needed some time to think. Couldn’t sleep so
I resorted to the comfort I’ve always found in this mess.” Pointed to the same
ramshackle structures she had gestured to only moments before.
“You find this
comforting?”
“Yeah.” She looked
amazed at my statement and I had to admit it sounded pretty fucked up.
Especially when you said it to some one who wandered these streets every day of
her life, without the option of returning home to the lavish house and family
that loved her.
“Wow.” She shook her
head, hair that must have at one point been shiny and full of luster, time
having now painted with a matte finish. “I’ve always found it kinda gross. No offense or anything.”
“None taken. I prefer
this to the glitz and glam,” I confessed after a moment, motioning to the
surroundings. “It’s more real.”
“That’s true.” She
fell silent again, nudging her toe into the cracks of the pavement. The money
I’d given her was still clenched tightly into her grimy little fist. Probably
would stuff it into her bra once I turned my back. I offered her a hug and then
left her there on the street corner, folding the fifty into a neat little
square. I just hoped she wasn’t going to spend it on drugs. She needed food and
maybe some shampoo and soap.
But looking back, I
had needed to sleep, not shoot up on heroin or any other poison. I had needed
to eat my dinner, not slink off to raid the mini-bar. But I hadn’t slept and I
hadn’t eaten my dinner. And this girl would most likely run off to some crack
whore and get her fix.
Down the streets, as
they slowly became a little safer looking. As the gates grew higher and higher,
the decorative vines weaving in their carefully choreographed dance up and over
the terra cotta or granite or wrought iron. Homes that had cost far more than
they were worth and grossly overdone. Million dollar pools speckling their
backyards, no doubt. These were estates with cutesy little names, not just some
one’s home. Heaven forbid that these people actually just live someplace.
Ah, but here’s the
catch Taylor. You’ll live in a house like this one of these days. You’ll have
the grandeur and the splendor and everything overdone to the point of hedonism.
And you won’t care to even realize that it wasn’t so long ago that you scorned
that sort of overindulgence.
I didn’t understand
how Isaac had done it all these years. He lived in our lives, went on-stage.
But he went home to Rebecca year after year and now they were getting married.
And it didn’t seem that Rebecca had much of a problem being Mrs. Isaac Hanson.
But I had been dating Morgana for just about seven
months and she was already going ‘uh-uh’. She didn’t want to just sit there and
smile. She wanted her own life. She wanted to be Morgana.
If it was Morgana Hanson, it seemed she might be ok
with that… but she would never be Mrs. Taylor Hanson. Even if our relationship
did survive. Because as much as I had balked at her statements beside the
waves, they made sense.
I would have a chat
with Isaac. Once Morgana had left, I would go find my
brother and try to talk to him. Get some answers as to how he and Rebecca had
gotten through it. Maybe even talk to Rebecca herself and get her perspective
on it. Maybe then I could understand why my girlfriend was having all these
doubts.
The sun was starting
to come up, dawn just peeking out behind the beginning of a new day. I jogged
back to my car and sped back to her aunt’s. Slammed the doors shut and slunk
back into her room quietly. With her still sleeping soundly, I kicked off my
boots and lay down beside her, watching.
It was at least
another hour before she woke up. Eyes fluttering lightly and her mouth a little
‘o’ as she yawned. Stretched. Gazed at me through blurry eyes. “Hey,” she said
softly, voice groggy and sleep filled. “What’re you doing up and dressed
already?”
“I woke up.” I
shrugged, brushing off the lie. I really had just never gone to sleep. So
technically, I had woken up the day before and was still awake and… oh, fuck
it, it was just a lie, plain and simple.
“Well, crawl back
under these blankets with me,” she tossed back playfully, nudging me with one
cloth swathed hand. I stood for a moment, stripping back down to my boxers and
then climbed under the sheets with her. Her body was deliciously warm, soft.
Clean, I thought with a faint hint of disgust consuming my mind, the image of
the lonely street girl I had encountered in my wanderings popping up.
I sighed in content,
holding her close. Her body was supple under my fingertips, giving slightly as
I tickled her. Smiled in delight at her laughter. Stole a quick kiss before
leaning my cheek against her shoulder.
Hours later, the bags
in the car her family had rented, one hand absently spinning her ring over and
over, she looked at me with pleading eyes. Begging.
“No,” I said again
gently, letting one hand fall against her cheek. “I can’t Morgana…”
“But you have before,”
she whined softly, pressing her cheek to my chest now. “Why not today?”
“Because I just want
to remember you here instead of in an impersonal airport. Because I can’t bring
myself to watch you get on a plane and fly thousands of miles away.”
“But you’re going to
have to watch me get in the car,” she replied, squeezing my hands tightly.
“Please?”
“No, Morgana.” I shook my head, leading her back into the house.
Out onto the deck. Drew her down onto my lap. Was relieved when she lay back
against me, her hands holding mine around her waist. Unfortunately, her aunt
was calling her to the car a moment later.
“Give me a hug and
then we’re going to walk out there and say good-bye,” I told her softly,
tugging her into a strong embrace. Took her breath away and then started to
walk into the house.
She trailed behind
after a moment and when we stepped out the front door, she was in my arms
again, clutching onto my shoulders tightly. “I love you,” she whispered, tears
blurring her voice.
“I love you too.” I
held her against me, my shirt becoming damp as we stood just on the threshold
of the home. And then she was gone.
I drove back to the
house, got some sneakers, and then off to the reservoir I went. The desire to
beat myself down into intense physical exhaustion was back with a vengeance.
And what better place to do it than where that damned sign could grin
maddeningly at me.
“In the days to come you’ll say why did I wait,
You can’t just leave it all up to fate,
You got to turn around before it’s too late…”
Weeks, hours, months. All passed
without another showing of Taylor Hanson
in my life. Oh, he showed up on the TV, brief appearances to let the fans know
that Hanson was still alive and well. But not before me in flesh and blood.
It was April. My birthday had
passed. Taylor’s had passed. We were both eighteen. And there was going to be
no trip to the South Pacific. Taylor couldn’t get away. And the album was
hitting stores next week. Now came the promo tour. No chance in hell I was
going to get him to myself for over a week. He belonged once again to the
seven-year-olds and their dads and their SUV lives.
Spring break for me this week, if
you call that measly week they give high school kids off near the end of April
spring break. Whoopdee-friggin-doo. An entire week to
sit in the rain and stare at the clouds. To think that Taylor’s going to be in
New York this week but it’s no use to go see him because he’ll be too busy.
Running all day from one place to the next and the few spare moments that he
comes across will be dedicated to refining the art of sleep. He had told me so
himself, insisting that I stay away from the city. Don’t come. It’ll only make
things worse if you’re here.
The comments had stung deeper
than I cared to let him know. I couldn’t make it any better? I would just make
it worse! Didn’t he at least want to be able to come back to me at the end of
the day and just let me take care of him? Let me rub his shoulders or hold him…
didn’t he care to have me to sleep beside him when he finally got back?
Yeah, he had told me not to come.
But I was thinking about ignoring him. I wanted to go. I wanted to see him,
even if it was only for a few hours everyday. At least he was there. At least
it was Taylor, in the flesh, standing before me. Not some one-dimensional fake
smile spread over my TV.
The only problem was getting up
to their room. Checking into the hotel myself was an option, but then I’d have
to pay the outrageous price of a New York City hotel room, undoubtedly inflated
even higher by the marquee outside their choice of accommodations. Even then, I
didn’t know their room number, and it was doubtful I could get it at the front
desk. On the odd chance I did get it, there was some sort of password system on
the upper floors. Given only to the people staying there, and paying the
thousands of dollars a night.
I wouldn’t have a thousand dollars
even if I wasn’t going to Tulsa in two weeks.
That had been another of Taylor’s
reasons for me to stay away. We’ll see each other soon. Wait until I have time
for you.
Wait until I have time for you, I
repeated silently, standing at my window, watching the rain. It was misery in
its finest metaphor, the sky crying and drowning the world. The sky could cry
the tears I had grown to refuse to shed. And I had succeeded in controlling it.
Hadn’t cried since the afternoon in Hollywood. Not once. Had wanted to. Hadn’t.
I recalled his comments over the
holidays, “If that means that a bunch of seven-year olds and their dads have
to wait another week for the tour, so be it.”
Sure Taylor. That’s why you can’t
make time for me at all in an entire week. Don’t you understand that I don’t
care if you’re exhausted? I would be superbly content just to have you hold me.
In fact, right now, I wouldn’t care if it was only for a second. I’d give
anything to have you beside me.
I’m going.
Suddenly, it all became clear how
I was going to get there. Zac had been sympathetic to Taylor’s response to me.
And he had maintained a decent friendship with my sister since we had come home
and talked to her on the phone at least once a week. I could get him to meet me
in the lobby… and what did I have to lose? I was already hurt by the fact that
Taylor didn’t want me there. It couldn’t hurt too much more if he sent me away.
They had gotten into New York
late last night, I remembered as I pounced off my bed and flung open the door.
Zac had called Nicole from a taxi to let her know to use his cell-phone to get
a hold of him… kind of sad that a fifteen year-old had a cell-phone, but so was
the music biz. I didn’t know the number, but I was sure Nicole did.
“Nic!”
I shouted from my door, flinging open her door. She looked up, startled from
her daze.
“Yeah?”
“You’ve got Zac’s cell-phone
number around, right?”
“Yeah. Why do you want it?”
“I’m going to New York and Zac’s
going to help me,” I replied matter-of-factly. I sat down on the edge of her
bed and looked at her. “I figure Taylor told me not to come down there, but
it’s a free country and I can do what I want. Zac’s going to help me by getting
me into the hotel and their room.” I shrugged, folding my hands neatly into my
lap. “I hope anyway. And if he doesn’t, what have I lost?”
“Ana, maybe you shouldn’t go down
there. Taylor might have a point,” she said quietly after a moment, refusing to
meet my gaze.
I sighed, toying with the ring
around my finger. “Nic, I miss him so much right now
that I don’t care.”
She studied me for a moment and
then grabbed a piece of paper. She scrawled some numbers down and handed it
over. “Promise me you’re not going to do anything stupid.”
“I promise.” I took the sheet of
paper and rushed back into my room. I wanted out right then and if I could get
a hold of Zac I could be gone in an hour. Dialed the number. Waited. Sighed in
relief as Zac picked up.
“Hey, Zac,” I began quietly, “is
Taylor around?”
“Yeah, he’s…”
“No, I don’t want to talk to
him,” I cut in quickly, noting his puzzled tone. Why was I calling him, he was
wondering undoubtedly. Why didn’t I just call up Taylor’s phone?
“Oh. Um, forgive me if I sound
rude, but why?”
“Are you away from Taylor?”
“No.” More puzzlement. “But give
me a sec.” I waited while he moved away from him brother, watching TV from the
sounds of it. “Alright, now please explain why you’re calling me. If it’s to
confess your undying love, don’t worry, I already know.”
I had to laugh at his joking
comment, happy to talk to him for more reasons than one. He always made me
laugh, whether from his idiocy or his joking tones, I wasn’t certain. But I
never really cared either. “Alright, look, I need your help. Taylor doesn’t
want me to come to New York this week. I’ve said screw that.” I paused, trying
to see if I got a reaction from Zac. Silence.
“And I need your help getting
into the hotel and stuff. No doubt, you’ve got security everywhere and I
wouldn’t be able to find you if I was the CIA.”
“Very true,” he replied, voice
thoughtful. “Morgana… I’m not sure if this is the
best idea though… Taylor’s been awfully moody lately.” He paused for a moment
and then added, “But then again, seeing you might do him some good. He normally
cheers up when you’re around.”
“You’ll help me?” I crossed my
fingers tightly, ignoring the pain and the stark whiteness of my knuckles.
“Sure, just lemme
know what you need me to do. I love you and miss you and… shit! You didn’t hear
that!” he quickly rushed ahead with him words, jesting as usual. I loved him
for it and he knew it.
“Well, can I come down tonight?
I’m kinda anxious to get out of here.”
“Sure.”
“Alright, can you meet me in the
lobby around eight? You’re at the Plaza, right?”
“Yep. Eight sounds nifty. I’ll
tell Taylor that I’m going down to play video games in the arcade or something.
There’s an arcade there, right?”
“Probably not, but I have no
idea.”
“Ah, well. Neither will Taylor.”
“Very true. I guess I’ll see you
at eight then, ok? Thanks Zac.”
“No prob.” He hung up and I
grinned. I was going to see Taylor after all. Now I just hoped that my gamble
would pay off in a very positive way. Hoped Taylor wouldn’t refuse me. I threw
a couple outfits into a bag, knowing even if he did let me stay the night, I
wouldn’t be there the entire week. But then I thought again and packed a couple
more things. With him, you never knew.
Left a note for my mom; she
wouldn’t care. She had told me on my eighteenth birthday that I was free to
come and go as I pleased. Just let her know where I was. That was her only term
and I was fine with it. Not like I went a shitload of
places. Skye’s; yep, that was about it. Skye’s, work, the mall. Not much else.
But I didn’t want to think about
Skye. Skye was bordering on dangerous mental territory. I was scared for her, but
there really was nothing I could do. But like I said, dwelling on that had
already been done enough. No more. She’d snap out of it in another few weeks.
She always had before.
Got in the car. Arrived in New
York just before eight. Parked my car. Forked over fifty bucks for a two day
parking fee in the hotel garage. Wished I had taken the train in.
Zac was easy enough to spot. To
me anyway. I knew how he would appear downstairs. Bucket hat shoved down low on
his head. Long sleeves. Baggy pants. Leaning against a wall, trying not to
stand out.
He seemed relieved when I walked
over. Still didn’t like being alone in crowded places. I was convinced that it
was linked to the infamous Paramus Park Mall experience and memories of it.
“I’m going to warn you now,” he
began, leaning out and shoving in the button for the floor, followed by a swipe
of the hotel key in the slot. So that’s how they rig the thing, I thought,
watching as he shoved the plastic back into his pocket. “Taylor’s being an
ass.”
“What’d you mean?”
“He’s just being pissy. Bitching about not having anything to eat here, and,
uh… shit, Morgana, this is the part you’re really not
going to like… he’s been raiding the mini-bar since about half an hour after
you called. Pretty close to trashed at this point.” Zac sounded nervous as he
recounted the tale. Stepped out of the elevator. Paused again before sliding
the key into the lock.
“You’ve never seen him drunk.
Remember that Tay’s still there someplace… but he’s
wasted and… he’s not himself.” I nodded, unable to resist toying with my bag.
This was going to be an interesting test of patience and nerves.
Zac sighed wearily as he opened
the door to blaring music and a wrecked room. Kicked shoes out of his way and
walked further in. Tugged me forward when I hung back. “Taylor!” he shouted,
leaning against the counter of the kitchenette.
“What’d you…” He stopped short as
he caught sight of me. Froze instantly, fingers curled tightly around a
miniature sized bottle of Khalua. Glassy, blood-shot
eyes met mine. Trembling fingers smashed the power button and the boisterous
noise became deafening silence. “Morgana! What the
fuck are you doing here?”
“Nice to see you too Taylor. I
know it’s been a long three months,” I muttered back sarcastically. Let Zac
take the bag out of my hands and slip away. Taylor was too drunk to notice. Too
drunk to stand on his own, I observed as he clutched the back of a chair.
“I told you not to come down
here!” he accused, finger pointing sharply at me and voice surprisingly clear
considering his condition. “What the fuck are you doing here?”
“I missed you.”
“I told you not to come here for
a reason! God dammit, Morgana,
what the fuck!” He was distraught now, running his fingers through his hair.
Toying anxiously with the cross around his neck.
“Aren’t you even a little
happy to see me?”
He gazed at me in drunken
silence, eyes clouded and guarded. Guarded by the clouds perhaps. “Yes,” he
admitted after a moment, eyes meeting mine. “Jesus, Ana.” He was next to me
suddenly, arms tight, holding me tighter than he ever had before. Strength of
the intoxicated.
He set down the amber bottle when
he pulled back, hands now gripping the back of the chair. Gazed at me. Sighed.
Took my hand and kissed my palm. Maybe he’s not as drunk as Zac thought, I
pondered, taking in his actions.
“C’mere,” he said quietly, tugging my hand and bringing
me into a second room. He shut the door and sat down on the edge of the
mattress. Looked up while I walked over. Took both of my hands and pressed his
cheek to my stomach. Held my waist as he turned his eyes to mine. “I wanted you
here,” he confessed after a moment. “I was hoping you would show up. I kinda knew you would.”
I sat down beside him, carefully
brushing his hair back from his eyes and smiling as it fell right back into
them. Kissed his cheek lightly. Let my fingers wander over his cheek, his
shoulder. Down over his chest, barely concealed by a tight wife-beater. Pushed
him gently to the mattress, curling up beside him. Took great joy in just breathing
in his delicious scent. Didn’t care that his breath carried the faint stench
alcohol.
“I… lemme
go take a shower. Sober up a little, alright?” he said after a moment, sitting
up with a slight grimace.
“You want me to come?”
He smiled, touching my cheek
lightly. “Nah. Just give me five, alright?”
“Ok.” I smiled back, taking his
hand and kissing his fingers before he slipped away. Went out of the room into
the bathroom. Closed the door behind him and left me to sit there and think.
But thoughts really didn’t occur to me.
I lay back on the bed while he
was gone, staring up at the ceiling with its carefully detailed molding and
brilliant colors. Didn’t let myself think about anything. Didn’t want to have
wandering thoughts about Taylor or Skye… most definitely not Skye.
Taylor was back quickly, hair
soaked and a warm smile on his face. He looked a little better, eyes not quite
so clouded. It was still there but there was an improvement. Not to mention he
had lost the shirt and his body was just as wonderful as I remembered it.
He walked over slowly, dropping
the ball-up shirt to the floor. Put his arms around me, now that I had stood to
meet him. Brought his mouth to mine for a sweet kiss that quickly turned to
burning passion.
Minty-fresh, I
thought. Somebody even brushed his teeth for me.
He pulled away after a moment,
taking a step back and gazing at me. Staring deep into my eyes like he was
looking for something, though he didn’t seem to sure of what it was. Then he
tugged me into a fierce hug, toppling us both down to the mattress.
I snuggled close to him with a
content sigh. Nice to be in his arms again. Nice to feel his skin under my
fingers. Nice to breath in that delicious scent of his that I couldn’t quite
place.
“So you’re going to be real busy
all week?”
“Yeah,” he replied regretfully.
“We’ve got to be over at Z100’s studios for seven AM tomorrow. From there we go
to Central Park for a photo shoot that’s scheduled to last until noon. The
shoot’s for Seventeen, so we’ve got to spend another hour with them for an
interview. Then there’s some article we’ve got to go to Spin for. We have a
dinner meeting with Chris. I won’t even be able to think about getting back
here until at least nine thirty.” He ticked off the different things on his
fingers with a sigh.
“I’ll be here waiting for you,” I
replied quietly, stroking his back. “Waiting with nice, strong fingers that
give awesome back massages.”
“How about full body massages?”
“We’ll see,” I told him with a
hint of mischief in my eyes. “And do you mean everywhere?”
“Hmm… depends. Would you?”
“We’ll see. You’ll be tired and
might just want to crash.”
“That’s true.” He sighed again
and cuddled closer. “But I don’t want to think about tomorrow. I just want to
think about right now.” His fingers traced the smooth line from my waist down
my hip.
“You want to just crash now?” I
asked after a moment of silence, feeling his complete relaxation against me.
His breath getting longer and deeper. “You’ve got to get up early tomorrow.”
“Yeah but…” His voice was sleepy,
most likely just as much from the drinking as from the fatigue of the day. I
gave him a stern look and reached for the snap of his jeans.
“Sleepy time,” I told him in a
sing-song voice, laughing as his eyes flew open to glare at me in mock-anger. “Don’t
worry, baby. We’ll have time for us.”
“I know. I love you.” His eyes
were sliding shut again, soft blond eyelashes whispering against pale cheeks. I
sighed, undressing to only my T-shirt and underwear before climbing under the
blankets. I hit the lights and smiled in the darkness as his arms instantly
found my body.
“I love you too,” I whispered
back, placing a soft kiss against his forehead. I sighed, and curled closer to
the warm body finally beside me.
“Bring the hours, bring the
pressure,
It’s
all about finding my predecessor,
I’m a
second guesser, I’m a pessimist,
Call
me extreme – more like a humanist,
You wanna get with this, try to sell me clothes,
And
then capture my image with the perfect pose,
So
you stamp it, sell it…”
It is way too early to
be awake, I thought miserably, rolling out of bed at Isaac’s third plea for me
to get up. We had to be there in an hour and I had to shower and get dressed
and God only knew how long that would take with me. Well, God and the demons of
laziness.
I looked over at Morgana’s sleeping face, leaning down to kiss her forehead
lightly. I smoothed her hair down, smiling to myself when a faint smile
overtook her features. She was still fast asleep.
And then it started.
Round and round it goes, when it stops, nobody knows.
By the time we left, Morgana hadn’t woken up. I didn’t want to wake her, so I
left a note on the pillow. I would be back around eight to change for dinner
and possibly shower depending on how everything went. Loved her. Was sorry that
I had to be gone all day, but what could I really do?
Up to Z100. Listened
to a DJ drone endlessly about our new album. Yes, it’s more mature. It’s been
years since the last CD and I’m eighteen, not fourteen. No shit it’s going to
be more mature.
Played a few songs.
Sang a little ditty for some random girl who used her one question allotted to
solicit a song from me. Shook my head in amazement as the idiot DJ asked how
long I had known Isaac. He’s my brother. I’ve known him since I was born.
I almost said with a
straight face that I was gay and Isaac had been my first lover. But Isaac shot
off an answer before I could open my mouth. Probably knew what was resting on
my lips.
Didn’t get to leave
the Z100 studio until ten thirty. Had to sign a series of autographs. Smile!
Put on your happy face. Good ol’ grip’n’grin.
Although, I did have
something to be happy about. There had been no questions to me or Isaac
concerning his upcoming marriage or my girlfriend. Nobody had asked us yet and
I was just betting that the reporters for Seventeen were going to throw the
questions at us. We couldn’t be that lucky.
First, we arrived at
the building. We went through a series of make-up people and wardrobe advisors.
As if I couldn’t dress myself or button my own shirts. I know, incredibly hard
for an eighteen-year-old to accomplish, but I’ve managed to defy the odds.
Finally dressed in
loose black pants, a tight black tank-top with some zany shirt unbuttoned over
it, I was escorted out of the drab little room and into a large drab room. Time
to talk about boring things nobody gives two shits about. Fun, fun, fun.
Babble which I tuned
out. Habit I supposed.
On to the park. This
was sure to be fun.
Of course, this was to
be an ever-interesting photo shoot. This guy knew about Morgana.
And he was determined to use that to his advantage. Kept shouting to me and
Isaac to think of our girlfriend’s. Threw back to Isaac that he was getting
married in a few weeks, look happy!
I wanted to tell him
to fuck off, but Isaac stopped me. Didn’t want that quoted in Seventeen, did I?
Couldn’t have the twelve-year-olds gossiping about Taylor saying the F-word.
So I endured the
miserable idiot and smiled and laughed and jumped up and down like a God damned
rabbit. Yea for me. Changed from one too tight shirt to the next. Balked when
they tried to put me in pink. No siree, Taylor will
not be the fag on the cover of Seventeen. Uh-uh. I am quite secure in my
masculinity and all that, but I will not wear pink. Not that tight. Oh, hell
no.
But now for the fun
part… the interview.
A nineteen-year-old
girl here to do the interview. How entertaining this was going to be. Just
think Taylor, a few months ago, you might have considered fucking her brains
out. That was the lowly life form you found so incredibly attractive.
“So”-giggle-“how’ve
you guys been lately?”
Isaac spat out the
appropriate dribble. I think he was afraid that now that I was sober for these
interviews I might actually say what was on my mind. Couldn’t program the drunk
anymore.
“Might as well get the
big question all our readers are wondering about out in the open. What’s this
with the girlfriends! Isaac, you’re getting married! That’s so sweet!”
Isaac first. Let him
set the stage as to how this was going to go. “Well, Rebecca and I have been
very happy. The wedding will be in a few weeks and I’m looking forward to it.”
“Everything’s great
with me and Morgana,” I droned appropriately, trying
not to think of her all alone in the hotel.
“Nothing else to say
Taylor? I mean, c’mon, you must be in a great relationship if you’re still
together!”
“I’d rather not talk
about Morgana and me. Our relationship is private.”
Isaac shot me a warning look, but there was a certain sympathy in his eyes.
Remembering my questions I supposed.
He had done me a world
of good when I had gone seeking his advice. He had told me all about the
situation with Rebecca, a rare glimpse into the inner workings of one Isaac
Hanson. I had been amazed at how similar he was to me when it came down to it.
And how much Rebecca and Morgana were alike.
Rebecca hadn’t always
been happy just being there. She had gone through the same thing that Morgana was going through. She hadn’t been able to cope
very well for a while with the fact that Isaac was owned for a good portion of the
year by a record company.
Only time had served
to ease her emotions. She grew used to Isaac not being there; reality sank in.
She herself had told me that Morgana and I would be
fine; give Morgana time.
Isaac had more or less
told me the same thing. Time. There wasn’t much I could do besides wait. I just
had to be patient with her, try to understand that it wasn’t easy for her. I
knew it wasn’t easy, but I was looking
at it from a completely different point of view. I saw it as a long-distance
relationship. She saw it in the only way that she could look at it: a
long-distance relationship complicated by the fact that I was a celebrity. And
I had to learn that she didn’t sit there and think, “Ooo,
Taylor Hanson,” but instead just what she had told me. She couldn’t ignore it
because everybody else was constantly reminding her of my status.
Now I was sitting in a
mildly uncomfortable chair fielding some of the stupider questions I had heard
in my time. Yes, my favorite color is still red. Yes, I love my girlfriend. Her
name is Morgana. We’re very happy. Yes, the fame has
put a strain on our relationship at times. Can we stop talking about Morgana?
Escaping from this
teenybopper proved to be quite difficult. She had a list of questions she
wanted us to answer and was determined to go through the entire list.
It was one-thirty
before we got free.
Spin had decided to
conduct a piece of the interview in some little restaurant on the Upper East
Side, so we were spirited off to said restaurant. Lunch was served, and while
this interview was definitely more bearable, it was still another interview.
And we would be meeting with this guy again the next day. Apparently, this was
going to be quite the large article. We’d be shooting photos later in the week.
The questions were
more intelligent, I’d give the guy that. He did ask about Morgana
and Rebecca, but more along the lines of how our relationships were affected by
fame. He asked if they felt left out, etc. No stupid questions about if I loved
Morgana, blah, blah, blah. He even joked with Isaac
about the cliché old ball-and-chain opinion on marriage.
He took his leave of
us around three, surprisingly early. So I was ready to go flying back into our
hotel room and crash for a few hours before going out for the meeting with
Chris.
No such luck.
It was as we were all
getting into the limo that I thought was going to bring us back to the hotel,
our father informed us that we were making an appearance on MTV’s TRL. Oh, joy.
Why hadn’t somebody given us more time to prepare for the fakeness of Carson
Daly?
Instead, I found
myself before the man of the hour himself a little more than thirty minutes
later. Fielding stupid questions from screeching girls.
God save us if this is
the future of America.
Five before we could
get out of the TRL studios. Autographs to sign, Mandy Moore to chat with. Could
she have been any more obvious in her hanging all over me? She knew I
had a girlfriend, yet she didn’t give up. Stupid blonde. And yes, I can
get away with saying that, because I’ve got the golden locks too.
Five-thirty when I
finally walked through the hotel room door. Found Morgana.
Nearly burst into tears when I discovered her eyes red and puffy, tear-stained
cheeks flushed to a ruddy pink.
“Taylor,” she said
quickly, jumping up and wiping at her eyes, “I didn’t expect you for another
couple of hours at least.”
“Well, we would have
been back sooner, but we had to go on TRL at the last minute.”
“I saw.”
“You ok?”
“Yeah, fine.” She
forced a watery smile, shoving her hands into the pockets of her jeans. I
noticed the note I had left her was still on the pillow, untouched. “So, um,
how was your day?”
“Long. Boring. I
missed you,” I told her, taking a seat on the mattress. I kicked off my boots,
then flopped back. Patted the fluffy blanket. “C’mere.”
She came over, sitting
beside me lightly. Giggled softly when I tugged her down so she lay beside me.
Curled close, pressing her damp cheek to my shirt. “I like this, baby. Just
being held.”
“I like holding you,”
I replied with a smile, kissing her forehead. I sighed contently, holding her
in just the way so that her heartbeat thumped lightly under my fingers. Then
sighed with utter remorse.
“I’ve got to go take a
shower, Ana,” I told her, standing and stretching. Discarded my shirt to the
floor. Dropped my pants, carefully stepping out of them and kicking them aside.
She grinned, giving me
an exaggerated once-over. “Can I come?” she purred quietly in my ear, standing
and letting her fingers wander.
“No.” I walked away,
the bathroom door shutting softly behind me. Turned on the water and attempted
to burn away the guilt and drown out the soft sobs that weren’t suppressed for
very long.
Maybe I shouldn’t have
pushed her away. Maybe I should have taken her with open arms. But I didn’t
just want every time we were together to just be a good fuck. She herself had
told me that during the holidays. Now it was almost like she was being
hypocritical.
No, Taylor, she hasn’t
seen you all day and is looking to spend time with you wherever she can get it.
And if that means fucking in the shower, she’s taking it. Do you see what
you’ve reduced your girlfriend to?
But I told her not
to come.
I spent over thirty
minutes in the bathroom, letting the water run over me. Slung a towel around my
waist and walked back into the bedroom with my hair left loose in a soppy mop
over my head.
She was sitting,
laptop on her legs, back against the wall, typing away. Looked up as I walked
in. Looked back down and went on like she hadn’t seen me.
I dressed slowly,
trying to get her to look in my direction again. She seemed to be ignoring me.
Ignoring me, or too intent on what she was doing to so much as give a damn
about me standing there.
Once I had slipped
into black dress pants and a light blue shirt, I came over to the bed, arms
going around her shoulders. Kissed the exposed skin on her neck lightly.
Frowned as her fingers continued to fly over the keys, mindless of my
attentions.
“Ana,” I whined,
pushing the computer off her lap and kneeling over her.
She looked at me with
annoyance, reaching once more for her writing. “Taylor, I’m kinda
busy. You had your chance.”
“Morgana!”
I sighed in frustration, flopping back and looking over at her. “Look, I didn’t
ask you to come here for a reason. I’ve got to leave in another half an hour.
Can we please just have that thirty minutes? I’ll be gone-“
“For another couple of
hours after that,” she finished dully, cutting me off. Glazed, blood-shot eyes
looked over at me and then quickly away. “I just missed you so much this entire
time, baby, and now the first thing you want is to take a shower.”
“I had to. I can’t
show up there with my hair all soaked. It needs time to dry.” I sighed,
reaching tentatively. Was relieved that she didn’t sharply pull away. Tugged
her into a hug and pressed my cheek to her neck. “When I get back… I promise.
They’ll be time for us.”
But I had to leave
already. Had to run a comb quickly through my hair, grab my jacket, kiss her
cheek and leave. Pretend I didn’t hear her bitter comment that I promised an
awful lot these days.
I even pretended not
to be hurt when she was fast asleep as I stumbled in around ten-thirty.
Pretended that the note stuck to the pillow telling me she got tired and
couldn’t wait any longer wasn’t bitter and didn’t hurt.
It wasn’t like the
next day could be any better. Up at eight and gone to the MTV studios to tape
some performance and set up something for the next afternoon’s live show. Not
out of there until noon. Then off to meet with the guy from Spin again. This time
we would be in our hotel room… and Morgana was there.
I sighed as Zac slid
the key through the electrical slot. I had told Morgana
that morning that we would be back later in the day with a reporter. She had
shrugged and told me that I didn’t have to ask; she’d just stay out of sight.
When we walked in,
there she was, in pajama pants and a sports bra, a bowl of oatmeal in hand, TV
on. Watching “Ever After”. Hair in a loose pony-tail that hung over her
shoulders. No make-up to hide the redness of her eyes.
She jumped up when she
noticed us, smiling beautifully. “Hey guys,” she said easily, her voice full of
that fake cheerfulness that only I could pick up. “How’s everything been
going?”
“Fine,” I replied,
shooting her a look. My eyes went to our room and then back at her. She stared
blankly at me for a moment before excusing herself. Took her oatmeal and
everything.
“So that’s the
girlfriend, Taylor?” the reporter questioned as my brothers and I settled onto
the couch. He took the easy chair beside it.
“Yep,” I confirmed,
nodding curtly. “I’ll be back in a sec.” I ran off into our room, mindless of
the glares Isaac and Zac shot at me. Heard their reply to the reporter’s
questions that I was just overtired and a bit anxious these days.
“Morgana?”
I called lightly, shutting the door. Her head appeared from under the pillow,
face smooth and pale. No tears. “Hey,” I said softly, walking over and touching
her cheek lightly. “Can I have a kiss?” She obliged quickly, dropping her mouth
against mine for a second before flopping back to the pillow. “Aw, Ana… can I
have a real kiss?”
She looked over at me,
and then grabbed my shirt, tugging me to the bed. Wrapped me into a passionate
embrace and held tight when I tried to pull away.
A few minutes later,
she released me as suddenly as she had taken a hold to my arm. Turned her head
back to the pillow and muttered for me to leave.
“Is she ok?” the
reporter asked when I reappeared, his name long gone from my memory banks. Too
many reporters to remember all their names.
“Yeah.” I grinned in
my oh-so-convincing way and carefully left my grin plastered there when the
next sentence reached my ears: “So, Taylor, what’s with all these rumors that
have been flying about a not-so-clean past and you?”
“What rumors?” I asked
lightly, throwing myself back onto the couch. I knew what rumors. I could play
dumb.
I still wanted to know
who had slipped up on all of that. The rumors were out and the fans were
gobbling them up faster than a starving group of sea-gulls.
“Rumors that you have
a history with drug abuse.”
“Oh, I’ve heard them.
Completely untrue. I would never do any of that. It’s too jeopardizing to my
career, not to mention really illegal.” Just like they told you to. Play dumb.
Give them the answers they want.
“But a lot of people
in the biz are involved in it. You must have encountered it, been exposed over
the years.”
“Well, yeah, the three
of us have all been exposed to it. That can’t be helped in this environment, or
in any other environment these days. It’s everywhere. But it doesn’t mean that
we’re all hooked on heroin.” I flashed him a convinced grin and leaned easily
against the cushions.
He bought it. And then
decided to return to his previous topic: Morgana.
“So, Taylor, Morgana not too into the biz?”
I shrugged, determined
to keep as much personal information from this guy as I could. No, Morgana wasn’t “into” the biz. But why did I have to
explain any of that to him?
“Well, she doesn’t
seem to like attention,” he pressed, leaning forward on his elbows. He gazed at
me with a goading grin, eyes mockingly-innocent.
“We don’t really
center our relationship around my career. It’s not that big of an issue.”
Straight out lie on that last one Taylor. How many times has she told you that
your career was becoming an issue in her mind? How many times have the two of
you fought over the most petty and trivial topics concerning your career? Not
that big of an issue? Ha! Jeeze, Taylor, you really
got yourself good this time.
Of course, this guy
wasn’t buying two cents.
“I find that hard to
believe.”
“Look, I’d really
prefer not to drag Morgana into all of this. The
article is about the band, not my girlfriend.”
“The article, Taylor,
is about the three of you. The band and your lives. Therefore, it does concern
your girlfriend.”
“Well, then I just
choose not to discuss her with you,” I said simply, folding my hands neatly in
my lap. Tried to ignore the look of satisfaction this guy let spread over his
face at my sharp tones and angered eyes. Finally didn’t care and just outright
glared at him.
He went on to pester
Isaac about his upcoming marriage, though my older brother didn’t seem to mind.
He was elated that the ceremony was finally a mere week and a half away. It was
happening. Even our mother had calmed down by now and had ceased with her
comments. The happy couple had bought a house across town, a moderate two-floor
raised ranch. Two bedrooms, guest-room, living room, full dining room, big ass
kitchen, wrap-around porch. It was a nice place that Rebecca was still decorating
as we all sat in the over-priced hotel suite our privacy paid for.
Zac was happily zoned
out to all of this, thoughts wandering into realms I wasn’t sure I wanted to
follow them into. Zac’s a weird kid.
He threw back an
honest answer when question about girls that yes, he was single, nope, no one
really in mind. But the last part I doubted as I thought back to conversations
in hushed tones to Morgana’s sister. But for my sake
and her sake, I really hoped the two of them didn’t hook up. The whole brother-sister,
brother-sister thing would be too weird for me. Not that I would try to spilt
them up if that became the case, but I’m just saying it would be quite zany.
The reporter left,
finally, nearly an hour later. I was already in my room when the door closed,
holding my silent girlfriend. She was cold and no amount of my caresses or
blankets would ever melt the kind of ice that surrounded her.
“Not just a statistic the warnings use,
Seventeen years and a dose of reality,
Two years back, still seems like yesterday,
Raped, tortured, robbed of pride,
Innocence lost, torn from inside…
“I thought I knew you,
Feel, come into reason,
Feel, come into me,
Heal, feel…”
I was going along this morning.
Yea. Wasn’t I just so special?
After an entire week of long,
lonely days in that hotel room, I was going along on one of these little
excursions. Today’s task? A photo shoot on the roof.
It had to have been before eight
in the morning when the teams of stylists and make-up artists and photographers
arrived in the hotel room. Racks of clothes for each of the guys, all three of
which had been herded out of bed at six AM.
I didn’t bother with make-up. No
amount of it would hide the dark circles anyway. Although, I had lost the
redness around my eyes, thanks to Taylor.
It hadn’t been through his
overwhelming amount of affection and loving mannerisms. It had come from being
shot down time after time and my own vow to myself after the most painful of
them all: No more tears over Taylor. None.
There I was, eyes clear and
white, simple jeans and a sweat-shirt to brave the icy wind fifty stories up.
Hair left long and loose. That was sure to be a tangled mess once I got back
inside, but what did I care? I’d have plenty of time to brush it while Taylor
and company reviewed digital captures of the shoot.
My boyfriend himself was standing
across the room, leaning easily against the wall. He might as well have been in
a cigarette ad, what with the way he lounged. All he needed was the tell-tale
poison hanging off his bottom lip.
He had already dressed in the
first of his outfits, tight black pants and an old Rolling Stones shirt. Belt
looped carefully over his narrow hips, cinching the tiny waist even tighter.
Why couldn’t I ever be that
damned skinny?
Hair tousled, full of mouse and
gel. Make-up an inch deep over his skin, light brown eyeliner nobody would see
once the picture hit newsstands. Lip liner, some sort of gloss.
Isaac was on the phone, chatting
away with Rebecca, ignoring the seething looks the make-up artist was shooting
at him. Apparently Isaac was messing up her perfection of his skin tone.
Boo-hoo.
With Zac’s eyes finally rimmed in
some light tan color, we proceeded to the roof. The photographers had already
set up their maze of equipment, and wasted no time in informing me of all the
various places I could not step. When I sarcastically told them to just confine
me to a chair already, they wasted no time in placing one far away from
everything. I shook my head in disgust and walked over to the ledge.
Never one to fear height, I
plopped my butt down on the cement ledge, fingers lightly touching the rock to
keep myself balanced. I leaned out, over my body, one elbow on my knees, and
watched the traffic.
My legs swung freely over the
edge, sandals on the ledge beside me. It wouldn’t do to have them go toppling
over the edge. I loved those sandals. Not to mention, whomever they clocked on
the head on the sidewalk below was sure to sustain certain and immediate death.
Imagine the headlines that would make.
A breeze whipped up, sending a
chill through my veins. Far away, Taylor’s voice carried over the wind, calling
my name. I ignored him. Let him find me. Let him come to me.
He found me eventually, a look of
concern marring his beautiful features. “Hey, Ana, Jesus, get off that ledge!”
“Why Taylor? Scared I might
fall?” I drawled back, letting one arm dangle out precariously. I pitched my
body forward another few inches, watching his face. Noted the fear with a
certain satisfaction. “Or that I might jump?”
“Morgana!”
He grabbed my arms roughly, tugging me back onto the roof. Held tight when I
tried to break away. Glaring at me, he spoke again, “Look, I don’t know why
you’re being like this! Don’t say things like that, Morgana.
You scare me.”
“I’m sorry,” I droned back,
gazing blankly back at him. “Aren’t they waiting for you?”
“Let them wait.” His stare was
furious. “What the hell is going on? Why are you asking me about jumping off a
fifty-story building?”
“To get some sort of reaction,” I
blurted bitterly, eyes focused on some far off point beyond his shoulder. It
might just have been a bird for all I knew. “To get some sort of emotion out of
you!”
He looked at me stupidly, eyes
chasing back to the photo shoot he was supposed to be participating in. “What?”
“Jesus, Taylor, all week you’ve
been cold to me! You just come back and crash. You don’t say goodnight, you
don’t tell me you love me. I know you’re tired and all, but you can’t even say,
‘I love you’? Three little words, Taylor? Those three little words were all I
wanted this week!” I finally snapped, words racing furiously. Snatched my limbs
out of his grasp and grabbed my shoes off the ledge. Shoved my feet back into
them. Glared back at his wounded, exhausted features.
“I do love you Morgana,” he replied idiotically, melancholy eyes gazing
back at me. He ran his fingers through his hair, a gesture of nerves, and stood
there.
“Then why have you refused to
talk to me all week? Why haven’t you kissed me, or even touched me, in two
days?” I shot back, sighing heavily. I shoved my hands deep in my pockets,
squeezing my eyes shut. No tears. But it wasn’t like there were any to fight.
My eyes were dry. “You still had time for all your whores at night before me.”
He winced at my sharp comment,
eyes looking anywhere but at me. Afraid of what he might see lurking there, I
supposed.
“I asked you not to come here for
a reason. Now you’ve discovered that reason.” Shoved his hands into his back
pockets and looked at me with his lost little boy façade.
He grabbed me suddenly, crushing
my body against his as his mouth devoured mine. Held tightly as his breath came
in short gasps for air while we continued to kiss, a week of tension releasing
itself. Choked on obvious tears when he finally just held me, arms wound tightly.
“Christ, I hate this.”
I froze, eyes raising to his.
“You don’t mean that,” I whispered, touching his cheek lightly. I pressed my
face against his chest for another moment, then stepped back. “You’ve got work
to do,” I said, wringing my hands. I slid my shoes off and sat back down on the
ledge, back to the city. He took a tentative step forward, dropped a gentle
kiss on my forehead and walked away.
I turned and watched the traffic.
For three hours, before I wandered back over to the equipment. I was told to
stay back, but ignored the instruction. Instead, I stood just out of sight of
the lenses, watching, a small smile coming to my lips as I listened to the
prattle of the photographer. And watched Taylor’s face.
The shoot wrapped a few minutes
later. Downstairs we went trooping, the three guys scrambling for the bathroom,
each desperate to be rid of the gunk caked to their faces. Taylor won the
battle, grabbing my wrist and tugging me in before slamming the door shut.
“Help,” he begged softly, glaring
into the mirror. He ripped a washcloth from the rack, shoved it into the stream
of warm water and started scrubbing roughly at his face.
“Tay!” I grabbed his hands,
taking the washcloth. “Here, c’mon, let me.” I took the rag from his hands,
swiping gently at the skin-toned mess. Off it came, quite easily. The eyeliner
wasn’t budging with just water, not the lip liner. But I had make-up removers.
I led him out of the bathroom,
resisting the urge to fall into a laughing fit as Isaac and Zac both scrambled
to get in next. (Isaac lost.)
Into our little bedroom I took
him. Sat him down on the bed. Found my packet of Pond’s make-up remover towelettes. Wiped one over his face and nodded in
satisfaction as the pigments erased themselves.
“I’ve got to go home tonight,” I
said quietly, taking the soiled cloth and throwing it into the trash in the
corner. Slid across the bed and flopped back. Stared at Taylor.
“I know. I wish you could stay.”
He leaned closer, fingers trailing over my stomach. I had to smile at the sudden
increase in affection, not particularly caring it came at the cost of harsh
words.
“I’ve got school tomorrow, baby.
And a long drive back home tonight. I’d stay if I could, but seriously, Tay…
that’s a long ass drive.”
“What if I got Isaac to go with
me later tonight and drive you? I could drive your car and get you back and stuff and then Ike could drive
me and him back to the city,” he suggested , brushing my hair away from my
cheek. Amazing what a little fight can do for a relationship.
“I dunno.”
I looked over at him, taking his fingers and kissing them lightly. It was nice
to have his affection back. I wasn’t going to waste anymore of the time we had
together by being petty and trying to get back at him; I was going to enjoy
these last few hours. “I mean, really, Tay, is Ike gonna
drive all that way just so we can a few more hours together?”
“Doesn’t hurt to ask. I mean,
even just those few hours. I’d like to have them. The wedding is going to be
crazy and everything, ya know?” His voice had dropped
to a low tone, lips grazing my neck. “Just lemme
ask?”
I nodded, smiling to myself as he
jumped up and ran out of the room. He was back in another minute, grinning
broadly. “No prob. We’ll leave here around one or two. Plenty of time for you
to get back for classes.”
“Taylor! I guess I’m not sleeping
tonight,” I replied wryly. He knelt over me, one knee on either side of my
hips, lips coming down along my collarbones again.
“Is that ok?”
“That’s just fine. I can sleep
through class. Or for those two hours before I’ve got to be at school.” I let
my hand travel up his cheek, tracing patterns over smooth skin. Clean shaven,
of course, just like he had always been.
“Who says you get those two
hours?” he shot back, bringing his mouth to mine before I could manage an
answer.
Suddenly it was all there; all
the emotion I had been reaching for the entire week, all the passion I had
craved. Apparently he’d been saving it.
Gone were the looks of fatigue in
his azure eyes, gone was the Taylor that dropped into an exhausted heap in the
middle of the mattress, whose shoes I had to remove because if I didn’t, he
wouldn’t. Instead, I had gotten the Taylor that bounded from one side of the
stage to the next, ever the energetic bunny.
Except now, all of his energy was
devoted to making sure he tasted every exposed swatch of skin. Was I loving it.
Hours later, under the mask of
darkness the city stripped with its Time-Square lights, we simply lay together.
It was nearing one-thirty, yet here we were, still in the city. Under the
sheets, holding each other. If I pushed it to the absolute limit, we could stay
another three hours. And I would have all of ten minutes to go into my house
and get my school-stuff.
“Why do you do it?” I asked
quietly, pushing away my thoughts. It was a question that had been plaguing me
all week; his answer, anyway. I knew why he did it. But I wanted to hear
his answer.
I watched as he picked his head
up from my breast, leaning back on one elbow. The sheet fell away from his
chest, draping itself over the tiny, delicate curve of his waist.
“I don’t know anymore,” he told
me after a moment of silence, letting one finger trace my collarbones. His eyes
looked slightly troubled as he turned away, both elbows now supporting his
weight, the muscles in his arms beautifully taunt. He shook his head and turned
towards me, lips in a sullen pout.
“Yes you do. You would’ve quit a
long time ago if you didn’t. I know you, Taylor Hanson,” I replied sternly, my
statement self-assured and filled with certainty; my comments were not up for
debate.
His eyes melted into a gentle
warmth, a chided grin coming to his soft lips. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.
Sometimes, though… like right now, I wish I never had to go onstage again.” He
looked down, turning to lounge on one elbow. His long piano fingers came down
to my face, a soft kiss dropped against my forehead. He sighed, baby-blues
gleaming in the faint light the drapes couldn’t contain.
The city was bound and determined
to not allow for the mask of darkness.
“But what about when you are
onstage? I mean, you love it. I’ll never take the place of that and I don’t
want to. It’s so important to you.” I smiled softly, glad my words weren’t
bitter for the first time all week. It was all going to be ok. I hoped.
His eyes seemed to be reflecting
the lighters of concert ballads as he rolled over, elbows raising his torso,
chin in his hands. “I’m just infatuated with it, I guess. More than infatuated.
The energy, all of it. Just to stand up there and be able to look into a sea of
people who’ve memorized my words… shit, it’s a rush. I guess it’s the only
addiction I’ve got left.”
“’Cept
coffee.” I giggled lightly, toying with the messy locks hanging into his eyes.
I did, however, refrain from any comments about his finally admitting to his
past addictions. Admitting he had been addicted.
“Coffee and you,” he shot back,
leaning forward to kiss me once, twice. I only smiled and waited for him to
speak again. “I… it’s just so incredible. I just get this blast of emotions
from it. This high… I can run back and forth all night across the stage. That
last show we did the other night…
“It was one of the best, ya know? All of the people there, just rushing forward for
one little brush of my sweat-soaked fingers. And I just fucking ran across the
stage, jumping up to one of the theatre boxes. Those girls nearly pulled me up,
too. And then I got down and ran to the other side and did the same thing!” He
grinned slyly. “But of course, you were in there, so it was all the better.”
Yes, I had been sitting there.
Four other girls sitting there with me, decked out in glitter, bright shirts,
and glow-sticks galore. All four of them never even thinking that I was his
girlfriend until one of them caught the quick, mouthed, “I love you, Morgana.” As soon as the blond rabbit had dropped back to
the stage, she’d told her friends and they’d all gaped at me.
I’d confirmed that I was the
mysterious girlfriend. Sure, they could come backstage with me as long as they
didn’t try to kill me or maul the guys. They’d all smiled, almost
unbelievingly, until the show ended and I marched them right through security
and past the abandoned meet-and-greet
(Good ol’ grip-n-grip)
section. Right into the dressing
room, revealing a shirtless Zac. They’d been ecstatic, to say the least.
Luckily, all had been gracious.
Zac even allowed photographs before he found his shirt. They stayed and
chatted, even as Taylor’s incredible adrenaline high plummeted, leaving him all
but passed out on my shoulder.
I laughed quietly upon recalling
all the nights I had found Taylor against me, the energy and zest performing
sucked from him as he collapsed into his exhausted form. He always had such a
cute look about him, the little-boy that’s had too much fun.
“What?” His question broke into
my reverie, an innocent little grin on his face. He turned playful, flinging
the sheet over his back, then snuggling close with it over his shoulders. One
hand groped blindly for the blanket until that too was tucked over us. The
other fell to my waist, that oh-so-predictable, I’m-about-to-tickle-you
position.
“I was thinking about how cute
you can be when you’re tired,” I said softly, raising one hand to his cheek. My
thumb trailed beneath his eye-lashes, eyes of the finest cobalt following my
every moment. His fingers tensed at my waist, but then relaxed, his cheek
pressed to my shoulder.
“You’re always cute,” he told me,
snuggling close. “And I don’t want you to go home. Can’t you just stay with me?
What’s a week of school?” Pleading eyes, eyes I wanted to give into so badly
gazed back at me with a certain innocence that he knew I found difficult to
refuse.
“A week of school on top of the
three days I’m missing for the wedding? Tay, I can’t do that, as much as I’d
love to. I have to be careful or I’m going to lose credit. I missed a lot of
school this year to be with you,” I said gently, trying hard not to sound
impatient or upset. He didn’t know what it was to be a high-school senior. He
lived in the land of home-school, take the books wherever you want.
“Alright.” He sounded
disappointed, but let it drop, arms tightening around me once again. “I just
thought… it’d be nice, ya know?”
“Yeah.”
“Ah, well, next week we’ll be
together, right?” he asked quietly, raising his head and staring down into my
eyes. Mouth hovering just over mine, he waited for an answer.
“Of course, Taylor.” I smiled
against his lips as he lowered his body over mine, arms tight yet tender in
their firm grip. School was going to be long that day and I suddenly didn’t
care anymore. Maybe I just wouldn’t even go to classes. I had all the biology I
would ever need right in front of me.
“What is the source of all
the pain that you’ve been dishing,
Could
they be lies that maybe you’ve been fed,
Consider
well the kind of stream where you’ve been fishing,
I’m
like a book that is waiting to be read…”
“Dammit,”
I swore violently as I watched the glass plummet through the air in slow
motion. It shattered in the sink, glass flying up to pierce through my arm at
sporadic intervals. “Ike! I broke one of your glasses!” I shouted up the stairs
before reaching into the sink. Careful not to cut myself, I started to pick out
the pieces.
He was standing behind
me a moment later, holding a bag for me to throw the glass in. “Jeeze, Tay, remind me not to let you in my house ever
again,” he replied jokingly, ignoring my seething look.
Lucky him, to be in
such a good mood. Then again, I guessed he had every reason to be. He was
getting married the next afternoon. But then again, I had every right to be
irritable. It had been me who’d been stuck doing a lot of the bullshit for this
wedding. And it was my girlfriend that I couldn’t go pick up from the airport.
I’d had to send Rebecca so I could stay here with Isaac and figure out final
details. Why my brother couldn’t call people on his own was beyond me.
“Shove it, Ike.”
“Touchy, touchy,
touchy,” he threw back, the grin never leaving his face. I could just smack him
if not for the fact he would hit me back. And I really didn’t want any bruises.
It took all of a glare
from me to halt his comments. He knew I was pissed about not being able to go
pick Morgana up. He also knew I was his younger
brother and by default, had to take all of his crap.
I brushed my hands off
on my pants, not particularly caring that the tiny shards of glass were now embedded in my palm. They hurt like a
bitch, but I paid them no mind. I had to help my brother.
We’d all chosen to go
out to the Blue Rose Café that night after the rehearsal. None were all too
concerned that it was a bar; the place had memories. The owners had even agreed
to let Isaac have the reception there the next day, even though it meant they
had to close for the night. But they would be there… they’d known the family
since we were all little blond munchkins. Of course they would attend Isaac’s
wedding.
“Let’s just get this
set, alright?” I grumbled, flopping back onto the couch and picking up the
stack of papers. It was filled with phone numbers to call; everything had to be
checked on. Caters and guests and airline reservations for Isaac and Rebecca
that night.
How the hell had I
gotten saddled with all of it?
Two hours and a pot of
coffee later, Rebecca came back with Morgana. She
looked slightly upset as she walked in the door, walking passed with a quiet
greeting as Rebecca led her upstairs into the guest room that had been my home
for the last few days.
“Morgana!”
I called as I chased after them, long legs taking the steps two at a time. I
took her bags from her hands and set them down, shooing Rebecca away. I closed
the door, taking her hands and staring into her eyes. “I missed you!”
“How come you didn’t
come pick me up?” she asked in a hurt voice, taking her hands out of mine and
sitting down on the edge of the bed.
“Because Isaac needed
me to call people here,” I told her, sitting down and wrapping my arms around
her shoulders. I kissed her cheek lightly and pulled her closer. “I really
didn’t have much of a choice. Believe me, I nearly decked him this morning over
it.”
“You could have told
me,” she said in a little voice, yet her eyes were soft. Once cold hand reached
for my cheek, her lips slightly parted as she moved closer. A sweet kiss was
received as she cuddled closer, moving onto my lap. “It’s nice to be with you
again.”
“It was only a week,”
I replied in jest, but I knew exactly what she meant. More and more, even that
single week apart was becoming painful.
She slid off my lap,
standing before me. She looked tired, a little worn around the edges. I brushed
it off as nothing more than the weariness of the traveler. Standing, I wrapped
her into a gentle hug, kissed her shoulder. I wanted nothing more than to curl
up with her before the fireplace and warm her chilly fingers.
But the wedding came
first.
Rebecca had only
brought her back to the house long enough to say hi, to allow us those few
moments of assurance that we were back together. I had demanded I was given
that much. But now it was off for fittings for Morgana
and all the other things woman get into a frenzy about.
Needless to say, if I
ever thought to get married, I was going to follow Isaac’s lead. Sit back and
let someone else take care of just about everything. She’ll want nothing short
of that anyway… so Isaac tells me.
Rebecca has called him
lazy, albeit in a joking matter, at least four times so far today. And it’s
only three in the afternoon.
Morgana
already knew that she was to be spirited away until later as we walked back
downstairs and received jesting comments on how fast we were; it was amazing
that I could get dressed so quickly.
Off they went in a mad
dash of chatter, a smile, although it was a weary one, it was a smile
nonetheless, having finally confiscated Morgana’s
lips. I was left with my all-too-happy brother, who was prattling on and on
incessantly. I told him I needed a break after another hour, called Kira, and met her at the coffee shop we frequented.
“Brother driving you
nuts?” she asked sympathetically after I placed my order for espresso. Forget
the sweetness of cappuccino; only the
black poison would do.
“Incredibly. Morgana’s here. But she’s out with Rebecca for some dress
fitting thing. Wait’ll you see these dresses
tomorrow. She spent so much money on these damn things alone. All lace and
embroidery and rhinestone tiaras… they all look like princesses.” I shook my
head with a smile. As much as I bitched, I couldn’t wait to see Morgana in the dress.
“Oh, let her have her
fun. A girl’s dream is to have a wedding like Rebecca’s. Every girl carries
around the childhood fantasy of Prince Charming and a storybook wedding. Very
few ever get it.” She raised her eyebrows at me as the drinks were set down.
She began picking at her traditional pastry before continuing, “So, Price
Charming, when are you asking for your princess?”
“Kira!”
I shot her a dirty look as I wrapped my long fingers around the deliciously hot
ceramic. “I haven’t been thinking of that.”
“Bullshit.”
“Alright, maybe a
little.” I laughed at her gaze of triumph, bowing my head with a mock-ashamed
sigh. I grinned as I look back over at her, nearly bouncing in her seat.
She sighed, looking at
me dreamily. “I’m so happy for you, Tay! All these years and finally, you’re
happy!”
“Hey, hey!” I raised
my hands in a motion for her to slow down. “I haven’t even bought a ring. Nor
have I asked her. It has not been discussed at all. I wouldn’t jump the gun
here, girl.”
“Taylor.” She gave me
a pointed look over the rim of her coffee cup. “I’ve known you forever. I know
these things. You’ll be happy. I know it. I say that you’ll be married before
you’re nineteen,” she said matter-of-factly with a nod. “You’ll see.”
“If you say so.” Yet I
couldn’t help but keep the little prick of giddiness from entering into my
eyes. I had been thinking about it more than I would admit. Isaac getting
married had gotten me thinking. I loved Morgana and I knew she loved me. I knew she’d probably say
yes in an instant. Two Hansons, married off in the
same year. How about that?
“Taylor Hanson, come
back to this planet!” Kira waved her hand in front of
my eyes, leaning closer. “Jeeze, you’re such a space
case lately.”
“I’ve got things on my
mind,” I shot back defensively. I raised my steaming cup just below my chin and
let the hot mist warm my face. “Isaac’s been making me do a lot of shit for him
and having Morgana here and everything. I just want
for it all to be over so I can curl up someplace with Morgana.”
“I know where you want
to curl up with her.” Her eyebrows arched as she continued in a suggestive
tone, “Right in that bed of yours.”
“You know me too
well.” I made a face, gulping down another sip of my coffee. I wound my fingers
over the warmed surface and watched her. “But, seriously, I want nothing more
than just hold her. Just sit there and let her talk to me. She’s got a
comforting voice.”
Kira
nodded in agreement, dusting off her hands. She began to shred her napkin next,
thinking of what to say. “Tay… be careful. Promise me you won’t get yourself
hurt.”
“What makes you say
that?” I asked in puzzlement, sipping at my coffee one last time before setting
down the empty cup. It made a dull noise as it settled back to the cheap
plastic table-top.
“It’s obvious you love
her so much that to lose her would kill you. I’m just saying, be careful. A
blow like that… I dunno, Taylor. I’ve known you for a
long time, and let me tell you, that kind of hit… it would fuck you up.” She
avoided my gaze as she spoke, frosted nail tracing the rim of the cup. Then she
flicked her nail with a light click and looked back at me.
“I’m not about to lose
her,” I replied firmly, wiping away all the little doubts and fears her
comments had drudged up from deep within my internal paranoia. “We’re happy.”
“Taylor, you told me
all about New York.”
I just loved her
honesty, her ability to kick me in the ass. After all, everyone needs a good
ass-kicking, don’t they? Then again, I had come to value Kira’s
candor with me and her knack for making me see the things that were painfully
obvious. Painfully being the key word.
“Well, that was
different,” I replied, trying to force myself to stop fidgeting in my seat. I
had to do something, because she would see if I tapped my fingers and attack
like a shark. “I had to work and that’s hard enough without her there.”
“Yeah, but her comment
about you having always had time and energy for all the sluts before? Taylor,
that’s not just some idle comment thrown at you because you’re tired.” She gave
me a pointed look, reaching for her wallet and throwing some bills on the
table, grabbing my wrist as I reached for mine. “My treat.”
“I know.” I was quiet,
pensive as I sat back. The comment had stung deeply and I found myself wincing
just as severely as I had that night. “But I just… I don’t know. With her it
was different. I just thought I could come back and collapse and she wouldn’t
care. I guess I was wrong.”
“Taylor, she didn’t
care. She just wanted to hear that you loved her. You told me she said that.”
There it was again, that sharp blow that rang with an honest clarity. I winced,
recalling that morning’s rooftop discussion. Her blunt statement that all she
had wanted from that week had been three little words. And all I had dished out
had been actions that screamed the exact opposite.
“I know,” I whispered
under my breath, then shook my head. I wasn’t going to have some random ditz
overhear this conversation. No way were my inner-most thoughts and feelings
going to be emblazed over the cover of some supermarket-trash. The world got
enough of me through the very songs that gave me my lifeline.
“Well, Tay, I’ve got
to get going.” She shot me a sheepish grin, ducking her head as she mumbled, “I
still have to buy Isaac and Rebecca a wedding gift.”
“Kira!”
I laughed as we both stood, grabbing my leather coat and swinging it over my
shoulders. “That just figures.”
“Hey!” she protested,
socking my arm lightly as I held the glass door open for her. “You didn’t get
them anything until yesterday!”
“It’s different. I’m
his brother,” I said matter-of-factly, ignoring her disbelieving look and
comments muttered incoherently. I gave her a hug and dove back into my car.
Raced back to Isaac’s and found him on the couch, watching music videos on MTV.
“Ike!” I whined,
grabbing the remote. I waved it in his face, trying to get some sort of
reaction. “Hello! You were supposed to call the caterers.”
“The line was busy.”
He looked at me innocently, dropping the list that was in his hands to the
floor. Held his hand out. “Can I have the remote back?”
“No! Isaac Hanson,
this is your wedding!”
“No, it’s Rebecca’s
wedding! Taylor, trust. The only thing I’m expected to do for this is be
there tomorrow morning.” He held his hand out again, fingers uncurling into a
flat palm.
“Fine.” I slammed the
remote back into his hand with a dull slap, turning to go call the damned
caterers myself. Rebecca would kill me if she got back and nothing had been
checked on. But as I was storming out of the room, the name “Hanson” floated
off of the TV screen.
“Hi, I’m Kurt Loader
with an MTV News break. Hanson’s in the news today with-” I flew back to the
couch, grabbing the remote from Isaac and turning up the volume. I had been
paranoid every time there was something about us in the news, ever since that
reporter had questioned my past.
“…the eldest of the
trio set to wed long-time love Rebecca Wake in a private ceremony tomorrow
morning. With none of the fans all too certain on where this ceremony will be,
there are sure to be swarms of teenagers scouring the Tulsa streets.
Surprisingly, though the band has always maintained that they are deeply
religious, the ceremony will not be held in a church. Here’s Isaac Hanson
himself to give his explanation.”
The screen flickered
and an interview clip we had filmed the week before popped up. I sat to the
side of Isaac, nervously twirling the Hanson ring on my right hand as my
brother addressed the question, explaining it had been best for everybody
involved, and that the media would be less of an issue this way.
Rebecca had made him
rehearse his answer for a good hour the day before we left for New York.
I sighed in relief,
tossing the remote back to a puzzled Isaac. He only shook his head, turning
down the volume from the atrocious level I had raised it too. I stopped as I
turned to go, pausing to throw another
question at him. “Hey, Ike, are Mom and Dad going to this thing tonight?”
“Dad said he might
stop by.” Isaac glared at me next, a finger ready to wave at me as I grinned.
“And nobody, Taylor Hanson, is to say anything about that party you guys
threw for me. Not in front of Rebecca and no way in hell in front of Dad!”
“Don’t worry!” I threw
back in a sing-song voice, a sly grin coming to my lips. “I’ll be good.”
“I mean it Taylor!”
“Aw, Ike, don’t you
think they both know what went on? Dad’s friends threw him a bachelor party!”
Isaac scowled, giving
me a warning look. “Taylor, there is no reason for you to tell Dad any of it.
Our parents do not need to know that I had to be carried in at four in the
morning. Nor do they need to know anything about strippers. Not to mention, I’m
sure Morgana would be just thrilled to know about you
putting twenties in a stripper’s G-string!”
“I did that once!” I
protested, but couldn’t keep the proud grin from my lips. It had been a dare. I
never let a dare pass me by.
“I’ll tell her!”
“Fine, you win,” I
grumbled, grabbing his phone and punching in the numbers. It had been a dare.
And I never let a dare pass me by. “I’ll go take care of these things
for your wedding now!”
* * *
“Taylor, can you go
get me another?” Morgana purred softly in my ear, her
voice garbled, but her breath warm none the less. I sighed, noting how
incredibly drunk she was getting, and got up to get her another. It didn’t
matter here that we were underage; it was for Isaac’s wedding and the people
knew us. A few drinks never hurt anybody… except for the fact that Morgana had already had five or six.
I came back a moment
later, half-relieved, half -dismayed, that she lounged against me in her chair.
My dad raised his eyebrows questioningly, but then looked away, going back to
the discussion he was having with Isaac about the next morning. Isaac would be
sleeping at our parents that night; we were determined to uphold the tradition
of him not seeing Rebecca before the ceremony.
I looked over at Morgana again, sighing as I watched her nearly dump her
drink. “C’mere,” I whispered in her ear, pulling her
to her feet. She wobbled for a moment, but then easily accompanied me out the
front door.
The parking lot, small
as it was, was packed with all the cars from Isaac and Rebecca’s friends. I
grinned as I recalled the times this parking lot had witnessed. One of our very
first public shows, right there where Tom’s car is parked. All the little girls
that had shown up to watch us perform. It was a memory I didn’t think I would
ever lose. Even if I wanted to.
“Morgana,
sweetie, c’mere,” I said quietly, tugging her into a
hug as I sat on the steps. She flopped against me, fingers weakly holding onto
my shoulder.
“Love you,” she
mumbled, eyes sliding shut as she crawled into my lap. “Even if you are an
asshole.”
“What?” I shook her,
forcing her to look up into my eyes. “What’d you say?”
“Nothin.
I don’t remember,” she muttered, curling closer to me again. She sighed, soft
hair brushing against my shoulder. I frowned, stroking her shoulder. Maybe I
had just misheard her. Her words were all starting to run together.
Yeah, that was it. I had misheard her.
“Morgana,
we can leave if you want,” I suggested after a blanket of silence had begun to
fall over us. Honestly, I wanted to leave. I had had enough of the loud music,
smoke and booze. It reminded me too much of my past that loomed, ever-present,
just behind Isaac’s eyes, behind Zac’s eyes. Behind Morgana’s
and Tom’s and Rebecca’s.
“Alright, but…” she
began, but then fell silent. “Can you just go in and get my jacket?”
“Of course.” I stood
up, not particularly caring that I had to lift her up. I carried her to the
car, letting her lean against the glass as I fished my keys from my pocket and
unlocked the door. I kissed her forehead lightly and then ran back inside to
retrieve my things.
Isaac seemed to
understand why I was leaving and Rebecca assured me she would be back in
another few hours. I said good-bye to everybody and ran back to the car.
Her eyes were glassy
and blank when I returned, her gaze listless. “Ana,” I called quietly, passing
my hands in front of her eyes. They flickered to life long enough to glance
back over at me before returning to their comatose state. I shook my head and
started the car. Maybe with some hot tea and a warm blanket she would be
alright.
I shouldn’t have let
her drink so much, I thought, trying to ignore the stab of guilt. She’s going
to be hung-over for the wedding now. But even as I looked over at her, I got
the feeling that her unusually excessive drinking had some deep-seeded root
that I didn’t know a damned thing about. That it wasn’t just the alcohol that
had brought on her mood.
A ten-minute drive
dropped us back in Isaac and Rebecca’s driveway, the tires nearly crushing the
flowers that the fans had been piling up for the last couple of days outside
the house. I gathered the latest batch up from the pavement and added them to
the growing mound on the lawn before picking Morgana
up and carrying her in.
“Tay, don’t leave,”
she whispered softly after I had set her down on the bed. She reached out for
me, her eyes melancholy. “I want you to be here.”
“I’m just going to
make you some tea,” I assured her, puzzled by her sudden emotion. She hadn’t
been like this all night. She hadn’t been like this in a long time, all needy.
I couldn’t recall her ever having such a desperation in her voice, such a
terrified plea for me to stay beside her.
“I don’t want it. Just
stay here.”
“I’ll be back in a
second. I’m not going anywhere,” I said gently, leaning down and putting a kiss
on her forehead. “Why don’t you put on some pajamas, and I promise I’ll be back
by the time you’re done.” She didn’t seem to believe me, but she started to get
up anyway. I left without another protest.
I microwaved
her water, not wanting to wait for it to boil, and dunked in a tea-bag spiced
with peppermint. Sprinkled the trace amount of sugar I knew she liked and
started for the stairs again. She was sitting on the edge of the bed,
unbraiding her hair. She stopped when she saw me, tugging my hand.
“What’s wrong, Morgana?” I asked, trying to keep my voice gentle and
soothing. It was so easy to send her into a defense mode lately, so easy to
push her back into the darkness she stood on the brink of.
“Just hold me, Tay,”
she whispered as I set down the tea. “Just hold me.”
“Ok, Morgana.” I sat down beside her, kicking off my shoes. I
discarded the shirt I had worn over my tank-top. Removed my belt and pants
before pulling the blankets back. Out went the light and she curled close,
trembling ever so slightly.
Her eyes were dry.
“Ana,” I began
tentatively, stroking her back through the thin cotton of her shirt, “Can you
please tell me what’s wrong?”
“Shh,”
she whispered back with her hands clinging tightly to me. Her fingers snaked
under my shirt, pressing tightly to the warm flesh they found. “Just hold me.”
I silently obliged, attempting
to chase away my worries. But somehow, just like the ringing in my ears, I
couldn’t just chase it any further away then that edge of my conscious that
held it ever ready for new torment.
“Sitting on the corner of nowhere road,
Just between I wish I could and I don’t know,
Rain is splashing up between her toes…
“She’s a picture of a heart of gold,
On the edge of depression unknown…
“Now she’s looking at me to know…”
I shouldn’t have come, I thought
miserably as I drew in closer to Taylor. He was puzzled by all of it, to say
the least, but he had finally stopped asking me what was wrong. And for that I
was grateful.
What was wrong? More like what wasn’t
wrong.
The week in New York still
filtered through my thoughts at random intervals, attacking me with fine stabs
that stung just like a glass splinter. It was over, yes, and I should let the
past lie as it might. But I had been hurt that week and it was a deep hurt.
To add to it, my best-friend was
teetering precariously on the brink of something I just didn’t understand. It
had been there for a while; the odd mood-swings, the temper that flared and
then just couldn’t be lit. The depression was strangling her and I was standing
there, all but offering her a plastic bag to put over her head.
I was absorbed too much in my own
life for too long. Too focused on Taylor. Too focused on Morgana.
I forgot about Skye, the one who seemed to be needing me the most right now.
She had begged me not to go to Tulsa, not to leave her. I had told her she
would be fine; I would only be gone for a few days. Now this gnawing feel in
the pit of my stomach told me I just made a big mistake.
Poor Taylor, I thought sadly as
he stroked my back, his fingers tentative, gaze worried. I had drunk too much
that night, to top it off. I could only hope I wasn’t hung-over the next
morning. Rebecca needed me to be there. I needed me to be there. I had to do
this; had to convince myself that Skye was just peachy.
“Taylor,” I whispered softly,
swallowing past the lump that was building in my throat. I would not cry. No
tears since New York. There would be no more. “Taylor, can I have some of that
tea you made?”
“Sure,” he replied, jumping up to
get it. He helped me to sit up, propping pillows behind me and offering the tea
with an extended hand. I smiled in thanks, touched by his affection and
concern. Once again, the guilt trickled in. For all he knew, he was to blame
for the whole thing. And while I couldn’t necessarily label him as completely
innocent, it wasn’t entirely his fault either. But I didn’t have the strength
to explain it to him. I lay back into the pillows; let him hold me in his
guilt.
“I love you,” I said quietly,
reaching one chilly hand to his warm cheek. He smiled, kissing my open palm.
“I love you too.” His eyes slid
shut for a moment and his arms tightened, almost painfully. He was so
incredibly strong… but there was always a certain gentleness to him. Looking at
him was enough to prove that. His arms were muscular and well developed, but he
still had his baby-face good looks, that slight delicacy that made him so warm.
“Ana, did I do something?” he
asked after another moment, eyes opening to reveal an utter vulnerability I had
never seen before.
“No, baby, you didn’t do
anything,” I whispered back, setting down the tea and wrapping my arms around
his waist. “It isn’t you.”
“Why did you call me an asshole
earlier?”
“What?” I looked up at him,
dumbstruck. “When did I say that?”
“At the Blue Rose. You said I
love you, even if you are an asshole.” His features were drawn up in hurt, but
there was a hesitant tone in his voice. Like maybe he wasn’t all too certain
about what he was saying.
“I don’t remember saying that.”
“Well, maybe you didn’t. Your
voice is a little slurred.”
“Taylor, I love you. And you are
not an asshole. You’re sweet and loving and all a girl could ever want,” I
assured him, swallowing thickly again. There would be no tears; I wasn’t
going to allow it. The lump in my throat was going to be swallowed and that
would be the end of it.
He sank down into the blankets
again, eyes gleaming in the darkness. Softly, slowly, under his breath, he
began to sing, “Can’t stop thinking about you, can’t stop thinking about you…”
Even though the song was
originally written to be driven by its drumbeat and fast-paced music, Taylor’s
a capella rendition floated beautifully through the
dark room as he continued, “Morning, day or night, I tremble at your sight,
it’s impossible to fight, I’ve tried. Now you’re in my head, and you’re mind
I’ve read, could recite the words you’ve said, now…
“Can’t stop thinking about you,
can’t get you off my mind. No, I can’t stop thinking about you, I’m thinking
about you all the time.
“Cupid’s dart seeped through, and
all along you knew, I just want you to be mine. There’s nothing I can do, I’m
all wrapped up in you, even if I wanted to I’m out of time…”
He didn’t bother finishing the
song as I curled in closer to him, face pressed tightly to his chest. The words
he had wanted to reach me had sunk in, yet I held off the tears. I was not
going to cry ever again if I could help it. Many a shrink had told me that
crying was natural, that I had to cry from time to time. Well, I had never
listened to anything they had told me; they were paid to tell it to me anyway.
Why should I start now?. In fact, I was beginning to think that not crying was
one of the best things I had ever committed myself to.
So long after Taylor had dropped
into a frustrated, fitful sleep, my eyes finally lost their battle with the
Sandman and dropped closed dry as they had been for the last two weeks.
* * *
“Rebecca!” I laughed as she spun
towards me, her train catching the bedpost. She grinned foolishly and threw my
tiara to me. “Put it on before I break it!”
I sighed, shaking my head from
side to side before carefully positioning the rhinestone tiara in my hair. My
long bangs had been braided to form their own crown, while the back had been
left long. The tiara sat beautifully in the raven locks already fastened to my
head before I started towards Rebecca. “Girl, we have ten minutes before we get
in that limo downstairs. You need to sit down!”
She laughed again, spinning into
her chair. Her chatter started up again as I settled the veil over her face. I
only shook my head again. The girl was wired.
“Morgana,
I can’t thank you enough for this! Just think, maybe you and Taylor will be
getting married soon and it’ll be me telling you to calm down!” She sighed
dreamily, fingers twirling around her grandmother’s heirloom sapphire on her
hand.
(Something old.)
“Becca,
I hardly doubt I will be walking down any aisles in the near future. Taylor and
I haven’t even mentioned the topic to each other.”
“Yeah, but he loves you a whole
lot.” She grabbed my hands, the diamond bracelet from her mother on her wrist
glittering brilliantly with the sudden movement.
(Something new.)
“I know. But marriage… shit, Becca, you and Ike have been going strong for years. Taylor
and I haven’t even hit a solid year yet.”
“Morgana
Summer. Time is not what matters in these things. You’ve brought about changes
in Taylor that years of therapy couldn’t do for a lot of people that were in
his position. If you mean to tell me that you think time should decide
everything, then I’m going to call you a damned liar!” She flipped the veil up
over her hair so she could look pointedly at me, grabbing my gaze and holding
it. My Celtic cross around her neck caught my eyes as I looked away from her
powerful stare.
(Something
borrowed.)
“Becca.”
I sighed, not really wanting to get into any of it only an hour before her
wedding. “I love Taylor, yeah. But… our relationship is complicated.”
“Ana, I’ve been there,” she
reminded me, standing now that she was fully dressed. “I know what you’ve been
going through with this. I’m marrying his brother.”
“I know.” I laughed, hoping it
didn’t sound as fake or forced to her as it did to me. I shot her a dirty look,
striving to change the subject. “Did you put on that garter yet?”
(Something
blue.)
“Yes. And the damned thing is
itchy as hell!” she grumbled, yet it was a good-natured complaint. She waggled
her index finger at me as her veil floated down over her eyes again. “Just you
wait until you’re the one all dressed up like this!”
“Becca,”
I began as we carefully made our way down the stairs, “I’ve got everything on
that you’ve got, except that garter.”
“Well, that damned thing makes
all the difference in the world!” she hollered after me as I walked out onto
the street and into the waiting limo. I sighed after a moment, impatient to get
to the gardens where the ceremony was being held and let Taylor hold me again.
He had slipped away early in the morning to help Isaac. He was the best-man; it
was the one of the few fights Diana had won.
And I was interested to see the
entire family there. Isaac had also agreed to allow for his younger siblings to
be in the wedding, with Zac paired up with Jessica to walk the isle, Mackenzie
as ring-bearer and Avery as a flower-girl, everyone was happy. The little ones…
even if they weren’t truly all that little anymore… well, they would all be
cute, nonetheless. I could just see them now, the whole little blond Hanson
clan, dressed to the nines for this wedding.
Out to the gardens we drove, far
to the outskirts of the city where the flowers were just beginning to bloom.
But it didn’t matter so much that the flowers that normally grew there weren’t
in bloom; Rebecca had ensured there would be flowers by ordering a whole mass
of them from a local florist. As it was, every one of the bride’s maids would
be carrying a bouquet of long-stemmed roses, complete with baby’s breath and
ferns.
It was all incredibly beautiful
and the pictures were sure to make the cover of any magazine they ended up in
the hands of. The sad thing was, it
would most likely be a shot of Taylor gracing the cover, even though it was
Isaac’s wedding. But that was how Hollywood worked.
Rebecca’s father was waiting as
we stepped out of the limo, as were the line of people assembled for the
wedding procession. Inside the wrought-iron gates, the beautiful music was
already beginning to cascade down over the assembly. Isaac, Taylor, and the
rest of the male portion were already standing under the white trellis set up
behind a maze of flowers.
Avery had just started forward as
we stepped down onto the grass. Rebecca shot me a nervous smile, grinning as I
gave her a warm hug and then fell into line with the rest of the procession.
Before I knew it, there I was,
standing before the alter as the music hit its crescendo and then fell away to
nothing. Taylor’s brilliant eyes caught mine, his mouthed, “I love you,” making
me smile. I took Rebecca’s bouquet of flowers and stepped back.
Following their refusal to have a
highly traditional wedding, the two had written their own vows, thankfully much
shorter than the traditional spiel. And once again, I found myself catching
Taylor’s eye to exchange a knowing grin; both had come to Taylor and I,
respectfully, and asked for help. Isaac knew his brother was good with that;
Rebecca was just at her wit’s end when she finally called me up and demanded
help.
Of course, both had had to pay
the stiff price of our laugher for help. A price we were both still collecting
on.
Then it was over. The months of
planning, the money spent, culminated as the two of them wrapped each other in
a loving embrace and shared their first kiss as husband and wife.
Down the aisle they floated, and
soon after came the rest of the wedding procession. Taylor, not really caring
whether he was supposed to or not, leaned over and deposited a quick kiss on my
cheek as we walked back through the long rows of flowers.
Hours later, with the dressy
clothes finally discarded, Isaac and Rebecca having long-ago boarded their
plane, Taylor had me wrapped in a warm quilt in front of a fire in Isaac’s
living room. He was to house-sit for the couple while they were gone. I was
more than happy to stay with him until I had to leave.
“It’s over,” he said softly with
a sigh, dropping a gentle kiss on my cheek. His warm fingers snaked under my
tank-top, massaging my back for a moment before he kissed my neck. “And now
it’s just me and you.”
“So what do you propose to do?” I
asked lightly, my mischief quite obvious as I turned, straddling his waist. My
arms draped over his shoulders as I tugged him closer. I gazed at his
wonderfully blue eyes before taking his bottom lip between mine and sucking
lightly.
“I don’t propose to do anything,”
he replied when I pulled back, rising to his feet with me curled into his arms.
“I’m just going to do it.”
I giggled lightly as he walked up
the stairs, leaving the glowing embers to die out on their own. Into the guest
room he led me, settling me down on sheets that held the delicious scent of his
body, that faint boy-scent combined with a hint of CKBe
and a pinch of herbal shampoo. Gently, he undressed me, taking his time with
each article of clothing, before slipping under the sheets and taking me into
his arms.
* * *
I stretched out, deliciously warm
and relaxed. Early-morning sunshine filtered through the curtains to glitter in
his flaxen hair as I watched his chest rise and fall with each breath. My
little angel.
Curling down deeper into the
blankets, tugging them up over my shoulder, I settled against his chest. Such a
warm body…
A smile tinged with a hint of
naughtiness came to my lips as I watched him sleep. Leaned over and pressed my
lips softly against his before moving down to his neck. Kissed him right in
that one spot I knew he loved; just between where his jaw met his ear. Heard
his faint sigh, obviously now awake and enjoying my attentions.
“Morning,” he murmured, voice
filled with sleep, arms embracing my body and pulling me closer. His eyes
remained closed as my lips moved down from his jaw to his neck, tongue flicking
out every now and then to taste his skin. He sighed softly when I stopped, his
index finger tracing the curve of my back down to my bottom. “I missed waking
up to you,” he mumbled softly, eyes still closed as I let my silky hair fall
against his chest.
“Missed waking up to me or missed
what I do to you before you go to sleep?” I asked playfully, letting my hand
wander further down his body. His eyes snapped open as he took my other hand
and kissed my fingers softly.
“Missed waking up to you,” he
said firmly, eyes ablaze with love. But then his grin turned mischievous as my
fingers danced down his hips. “But I missed what you do to me too.”
“I can tell,” I replied with a
pointed look down, giggling lightly. I leaned over and kissed him again,
letting my body settle over his. Ignored the faint ache that was developing in
my thigh where it rested against his body. Decided to tease him a little bit
more.
I let my lips wander over his jaw
again, right back to the very spot I knew craved my kisses. I sucked lightly on
the sensitive skin, smiling as he all but melted, hands beginning to wander
over my body. Blond eyelashes flickered against his porcelain skin as his eyes
fell closed again. He relaxed, then tensed, pulling me into a tight embrace,
rolling over and straddling my body. His eyes gazed down at mine, still
sleep-filled, but yet surprisingly clear.
When my breath finally started to
reclaim itself hours later, I threw back the blankets and climbed out of bed.
Taylor had fallen back into a light sleep, so I was careful not to wake him as
I threw on a silk robe, a Christmas present from Rebecca, and wandered
downstairs.
On went the coffee before I
wandered into the living room to start up another fire, noting the unusual
frostiness in the air. It was already the first week of May, but the air was
still chilly.
Warm arms encircled me a few
minutes later, a soft voice purring in my ear, “Morgana,
I got cold without you.”
I smiled as I turned, surprised
he had taken the effort to put on a pair of boxers before marching down the
stairs after me. “Well, I made you some coffee. It should be done soon and then
we can curl up here and talk.”
“Ok.” He tugged lightly on my
wrist when I turned to go, pulling me into a warm hug. “I love you,” he
whispered quietly, placing a tender kiss on my forehead. I grinned softly,
enjoying the slow, lingering kiss he gave me before releasing my hand.
We padded into the kitchen
together, Taylor knowing where everything was as if it were his own home. He
wouldn’t let me get the coffee once it finished brewing, but instead poured the
cups himself before tugging me back into the living room. On the floor, he
spread the quilt still remaining on the back of the couch, and pulled me close.
“Can’t you just stay here with me
forever?” he whispered in my ear, arms wrapped tightly around my waist. “Never
leave…”
“I think Rebecca and Isaac would
kick us out,” I replied, laughing at the look he shot me.
“That’s not what I meant.”
“I know.” I set down my
barely-touched coffee, carefully out of the way, and turned to Taylor. “But
I’ve got to go home. Just like you’ve got to go back to the biz. It sucks, but
so is life.” My words had turned bitter, but I hadn’t meant for them to. The
hurt that invaded his eyes was unbearable when I finally looked over at him.
“Morgana…
I don’t want… are you alright?” He ran his fingers through his hair, a worried
look sneaking into his eyes. The romance of the morning was shattered as he
gazed back over at me. “I mean, the other night you were so upset and then… are
you alright?” he repeated, reaching tentatively for my arm.
“Do you really want to get into
this?”
A look of worry sparked up in his
features as he watched me. Withdrew his arm. Looked at the floor. Looked back
at me. “I did do something, didn’t I?”
“Taylor…” My voice trailed off
and I sighed, unable to look at him. I didn’t want to tell him any of this, yet
it was looking like the “talk” I had been dreading was finally bearing down on
me. I was going to simply have to face the music.
“But as the scenery grows, I
see in different lights,
The
shades and shadows undulate my perception,
My
feelings swell and stretch; I see from greater heights,
I
understand what I am still too proud to mention – to you…
“My
fever burns me deeper than I’ve ever shown – to you…
“I
say I’ll never wake up knowing how or why
But
never is a promise and I’ll never need to lie…”
Here it was again. It
had risen from the ashes like the fabled phoenix, supposedly long dead and
buried. But then again, a phoenix is a beautiful and hopeful creature. So maybe
I should just look at my own situation as a beast rearing its ugly head once
again.
“Morgana…”
I stopped, biting my bottom lip. Drummed my fingers against my coffee cup. Took
another sip and discarded the empty glass. “What’d you mean, am I sure I want
to get into this?”
“You know.”
“No I don’t!” I shot
back in frustration. I took a ragged breath and squeezed my eyes shut. “If I
knew, I wouldn’t be asking.”
She avoided my gaze,
tugging her robe more tightly around her body. Looking fragile in that moment,
she huddled in a little ball in her delicate silk. Yet still, she was
stunningly beautiful. “Taylor,” she finally began, voice taunt, “things have
been going downhill.”
I sat there, stupefied
as her words reached my ears. They had? Yeah, the week in New York had been
rather tumulus. But the previous days…
And I’m not just
talking the hours we spent in bed.
“How so?”
“New York. Think about
it.” She had drawn her knees up to her chest, the folds of silk falling around
her. I noticed she shivered, but didn’t move to hold her. Given the current
discussion, she would only push me away. And more rejection was something I
couldn’t handle.
“I told you not to
come,” I replied wearily, trying hard not to allow my voice to become
impatient. I had told her not to come down to the city. And there had
been a reason for all of it.
Because I hadn’t
wanted to have the current discussion.
Because I hadn’t
wanted the current turmoil.
“Yeah, but I did.”
I was silent, unsure
of what to say. I didn’t know what she wanted from me anymore. Reason didn’t
seem to occupy her thoughts; I wasn’t going to try and be logical. Maybe if I
just sat back and let her talk, I would be able to sort out the whole sordid
mess.
“Taylor, I love you,
don’t get me wrong. I love you more now than ever. But I don’t know how much
more I can take of being a yo-yo.”
“What?” My head
snapped sharply to the right, an incredulous gaze reserved for her. “What!”
She glanced at me for
a moment and then turned away. Drew her arms around her knees and lay her cheek
there. Shivered once more. Was still.
“Ana, I have tried.
Please believe that I have tried. You’re over-reacting here. We had a shitty
week, yeah. But we can make up for all the mess in the city. We’ve got three
more days. Those three days can be just you and me and this house.” I reached
out for her arm, biting my lip until I tasted the metallic bitterness of blood.
I wasn’t going to lose control. No way. No anger, no tears, no screaming.
“Taylor.” She sighed,
but crawled into my embrace anyway. “I just wish it weren’t so hard.”
“I do too. But this is
the way it’s turned out. There’s really nothing much that I can do it. I guess
I pay my own salary, in a strange, twisted way, with my privacy and the right
to live my life.” I shrugged, but deposited a soft kiss on her forehead,
intensely aware of the contradictions in my words and in my actions.
“And that’s your
choice,” she spat bitterly, eyes
flashing as she crawled away from me again. In the other room, the phone began
to shrill, cutting into the tense silence descending. “Aren’t you going to
answer that?”
I looked at her,
shaking my head at her sudden nastiness. Only a few hours ago, we had laid
together in a brief moment of rest, whispering how much we loved each other.
Now, here we were, arguing over… well, shit, I wasn’t even quite sure what we
were arguing over anymore.
I went to answer the
phone.
A teary voice greeted
me on the other end, a faint gasp. A quiet whisper to talk to Morgana; it was her sister. I put the phone down with a
sigh, almost afraid to find out what had caused this sudden phone call. In all
the visits Morgana had made to Tulsa, never once had
her sister called.
“Ana, your sister’s on
the phone,” I called, leaning against the door. She took the phone and motioned
that I leave. But she didn’t turn away fast enough; I still caught the deep
fear lurking in jaded eyes.
From the couch, I
heard her hesitant hello. Then silence. Lots of silence. A good ten minutes of
silence.
I got up, walking
slowly. Still nothing. Not a single, solitary sound. I sighed, allowing my pace
to quicken as I went into the kitchen.
“Ana?” I stared at
her, afraid to ask what news her sister had carried. Because there was my
girlfriend, sitting like one of the dead who’d been propped up by some random
sick bastard. The phone hung from its cord, swinging like a pendulum, just
barely grazing her head. Her eyes were blank, unfocused, as she gaped at the
floor. “Morgana!”
I crouched down beside
her, checking the phone before replacing it. My greeting had been the dial
tone. “Morgana, c’mon, what’s wrong?”
Murky eyes stared back
at me, body limp as I encircled her. She lay there, slumped like a rag doll and
stared off into space. Then something snapped and she was standing in front of
me, tugging the robe tightly around her. “Get me on the next plane back home,”
she whispered fiercely, her voice trembling. “Now!”
“Morgana,
what happened?” I asked desperately, following her as she flew into motion,
racing up the stairs. Things were thrown into her open suitcase as she stopped
for a moment to glare.
“Skye’s dead,” she
finally whimpered, but then the trace of tears I had seen was gone. “She killed
herself.”
“Oh, Ana.” I moved to
hug her, but her jagged motion away stopped me.
“Don’t touch me. Go
get the plane ticket straightened out. I’m going home.” Her voice was frigid
and demanding as she pointed harshly out the door.
Swallowing the tears I
felt rising in my throat at her coldness, I took to the stairs and did as she
asked. Lucky for her. There was a flight leaving in two hours. Sure, they had a
ticket. They could switch her reservations for a fifty-dollar fee.
“Morgana?”
I called up the stairs, walking slowly. “It’s taken care of.”
“Thank-you,” she
replied curtly, now dressed in faded jeans and a tank-top. Over the shirt, she
wore a light jacket, her bag at her feet as she sat on the bed.
“Are you ok?”
“I’m fine!” Her
eyes were furious, snapping her hair back. “I want to leave now. Get dressed.”
I looked down,
remembering that I was still clad only in my underwear. Sighed. Yanked clothes
from the closet and tugged them over my slim frame. Grabbed her wrist as she
turned to leave. “Ana, you don’t have to leave. You can stay here, or I could
go with you if you want. I don’t… I don’t want you to be alone.”
“I have my sister,”
she said coldly, yanking her hand free. “Let’s go.”
I blinked back more
tears while locating my car keys. We weren’t half-an-hour from the airport. Her
flight didn’t leave for two hours. There was no reason to depart immediately.
But she was so adamant, I figured it was best to just go along.
I parked the car after
a tense thirty minutes of frigid silence, half-tempted not to let her get out
of the car. Just as I had been tempted to refuse to drive her. Or to just drive
in aimless circles until the flight had left. It was the last one of the day.
“Ana.” I ran my
fingers through my hair, reaching for her cheek. She turned to me with blank,
glazed eyes. “I love you, ok? Don’t forget that.”
“I know,” she said
dully, reaching for the car door. Out she went, bag in hand, and started across
the parking lot.
“Hey, wait up!” I
called, jumping out of the car and pocketing my keys.
“No, Taylor. Just go
home.” She stopped where she was and motioned me away, face blank. “I’ll call.”
“Ok,” I replied,
trying to keep the hurt out of my voice. I took a tentative step forward and
then brought her into a tender hug. “I love you.”
She was silent, limp
in my arms as I held her. Arms as her sides, cheek resting only against my
shoulder because it was convenient. No warmth, no love.
I stepped back after a
moment, unsure. Opened my mouth to say something, but it was already too late.
She had turned her back and was walking away.
So I went back to
Isaac’s, cleaned up the living room. Put out the fire. Dumped the coffee she
had made. Went back into the guest room, got undressed. Then I fell into the
bed that still held her delicious scent and cried in the despair of utter
confusion.
* * *
Two long, excruciating
weeks. Not a word. Not one single word from the girl who I loved
unconditionally, without question. The one I loved more than my own life. The
one I’d given so much for; not a word.
The thing about it
that scared me was I didn’t know why she wasn’t calling me. I had tried to
call, plaguing her home with phone calls. But I only got the same answer from
her sister time after time; she didn’t want to talk. Maybe I could try calling
back later.
Not that there really
was a later for me to call anymore. In the two weeks that had passed, Rebecca
and Isaac returned home. The tour, slated to start two nights from the present
day, was the next event looming before us. Whether or not my girlfriend would
speak to me, I had a tour to practice for.
It was like she had
cut off all forms of contact with the people I knew. Rebecca hadn’t heard a
word from her, yet she had seemed to know something about the entire situation
that I didn’t. When I’d told her that Skye had committed suicide, she’d gasped
and declared she was going to call Morgana
immediately. Of course, her attempt was as furtive as mine. Supposedly.
Then there was Morgana’s sister. While over the last few months, she had
built a strong friendship with Zac, it seemed to have ended. They rarely spoke,
if ever, and not for more than five minutes. Nicole would never divulge
anything about her sister except that she wasn’t in a good place. That was all.
And oh yeah, I shouldn’t worry about her. She didn’t want me to.
Sure, I thought
bitterly as I drove to a local theatre for a final run-through. The show would
be there in two nights in front of a sold-out crowd. A crowd full of girls that
would be happy to know my girlfriend would have nothing to do with me. A crowd
that would be glad to know I had told her I loved her and she had remained
chillingly silent.
Isaac and Zac were
already there when I arrived, impatient with me as they always were when it
came to the band as of late. But what did they understand? Zac was still
happily frolicking about in the field and Isaac was married. Neither had a
girlfriend whose best-friend had just died and now refused to communicate.
One long, exhausting
set after another. We ran through the show twice before I gave up, declaring I
was going home. I didn’t feel well and I should make sure I wasn’t sick before
the tour started to kick in; it would kick me in the ass if I didn’t take care
of myself.
Neither Zac nor Isaac
bought my excuse, but it didn’t matter. They wouldn’t say anything. Didn’t have
the heart. My nightly sobs penetrated Zac’s walls and Isaac had his funny way
of just knowing. Or maybe it had something to do with the condition he’d found
me in upon returning home. But once again, it didn’t really matter.
There was a message
waiting for me when I got home, plainly scrawled on a yellow sticky note. My
mother had carefully stuck it on my door, a smile drawn in childish lines
beneath it. She tried.
Morgana’s
sister called. She said to call her at home.
Morgana’s
sister? I wondered as I shut my door and discarded my shoes and coat. Almost
June and I’m still walking around with a coat, I thought with a shake of my head.
I sighed and picked up the phone, punching the speed dial.
“Hello?” a watery
voice asked, hardly recognizable. For a second, I thought it was Morgana, but then realized it wasn’t. I had heard her cry
many times before and this wasn’t her.
“Nicole?”
“Oh, God, Taylor-” She
broke down again, heaving sobs ripping over the line. Now I was getting scared.
Why was she acting like this?
Morgana, I
thought as my stomach flipped. I clutched at my side and waited for Nicole to
calm herself down again, ignoring the swell of nausea. I had to hear this. I
was just over-reacting; concern was distorting my logic.
“She… she did it
again…”
“What? What did she
do?” I whispered anxiously, my fingers tightening painfully around the phone.
But I already knew the answer as it came in gasping sobs.
“She’s… she tried to…
oh, God, she’s… she’s in the hospital…
an… and they don’t think she’s going to m-make it this time.”
“Nicole, listen to me
carefully,” I began in a tight voice, blinking away my own tears. She had left
me in anger… hadn’t… no! I wasn’t going to think like that. “Where is she?”
“Boston Medical… they
thought it would be better for her and…”
I cut off her prattle
with the promise I was on the next flight out. Instructed her to meet me at
Logan Airport. She was leaving now that she’d gotten a hold of me? Good. I’d be
there as soon as I could get a flight.
As soon as I’d hung
up, I called the airline. Bought a ticket to Boston and a return flight to come
back by four the afternoon of the show. With the concert not starting until at
least seven-thirty, I would be back in plently of
time. Then I called a hotel in Boston I knew to be near the hospital, across
the street if I remembered correctly, and threw some things into a bag.
Out came the
cell-phone as I dropped into my car. I dialed Isaac’s number and waited for him
to pick up. Informed him I was on my way to the airport; Morgana
was in the hospital and it didn’t look good. He said he understood and not to
worry. They’d set everything up for the show. Just be sure I was back to get my
ass on-stage.
Why did I ever have to
be cursed with this voice?
So it began. I flew
into Boston in an exhausted heap and left that way two days later. Not a single
movement from my comatose girlfriend, but I had to leave. I had a concert to
perform.
Right after that show,
I hopped another place and flew back to Bean Town, reservations already
confirmed for my flight three days later into Seattle. After that, Vancouver.
Portland. San Francisco, LA, Phoenix… they all blended together into one big
mess.
Of course, everyone
was livid. The money I was spending on airline tickets! Why couldn’t I
just call? Why did I have to fly back to Boston and sit across the street by
night? Or by her side in the day, singing like the doctors had said to.
Talking, singing; they said it would help her. Maybe.
That first night I had
arrived in rush of panic came to mind now, as I sat on another nameless flight
descending into the city on the bay. There she had been, in an intensive care
unit, hooked up to a thousand different machines. The steady beat of her heart
had filled the tiny space and I had broken down into tears of utter despair.
Nicole had had to all
but drag me away when the doctors said it was time for us to leave. I had
stared at the bandages surrounded her wrists, the thick gauze wrapped to at
least an inch thickness, yet still, dots of red spread through. Apparently, she
was still bleeding.
The bleeding had
stopped and still I had sat, watching. Countless days that had all begun to run
together, just as the concerts and the fans and their flowers and their
sympathy.
That was the best part
of it all. The fans found out that Morgana was in a
coma. They came to me, with flowers and soft smiles, whispering quietly that
they were sorry about my girlfriend. Was I alright? Did I need a shoulder to
cry on? Say, their’s?
There had only been
one of them that I hadn’t wanted to slap. She had been one reason I continued
to sit by Morgana’s bedside and hope, even though the
doctors told me with each day that passed and she didn’t wake up, the chances
increased that she may never.
The girl had been
slight of build, short, maybe five-two at the most. Punked
out, with bright pink hair and knee-high combat boots. Her plaid skirt had been
pink and covered in safety pins, tank-top bordering on ratty. But she had
seemed to be happy in her clothes, so that was all fine and good.
She’d come up to me
quietly, the pass around her neck an obvious fake. Slowly, she’d approached.
“Taylor,”-her voice had been very soft and I’d had to strain to hear-“look at
me for a second.” I’d turned, almost out of morbid curiosity to see what this
one had to say to me that all the others didn’t.
With her hands held
out, she stood there. And there they’d been: the long, white slashes running
vertically up her arms. She’d whispered she knew about Morgana.
A friend of a friend of a friend went to school with her. She’s told me that
she’d been there before and no one had expected her to live. Yet here she was.
And did I know what had brought her out of the coma? Well, I’d be damned, but
she was listening to me singing on the old live CD.
She kissed my cheek
lightly and spirited away, a flash of pink that faded into the darkness like a
camera flash.
I remembered her now
as I stepped off the plane and wandered wearily down to the parking lot where Morgana’s mother was waiting. Nicole sat in the front, eyes
listless and blank. I didn’t bother asking if there’d been a change; I knew the
answer. It was written all over both their faces’.
Another two days of
silence and off I went again to another nameless city and more saddened faces.
Back I came, wearier than I had been when I’d left but unable to sleep the
entire flight. But it didn’t really matter; the next show was in Boston, so I
would be in the city for the next couple of days. My brothers would be there,
the family would be there. I would save myself a couple hundred dollars and
sleep in the room the band paid for.
Nothing. Just nothing.
Regulated air flowed
through her body as dictated by the doctors, precise and measured. One girl’s
life left in the hands of medicine and science and left to the devices of team
of surgeons and doctors that witnessed Death’s unprejudiced hand day in and day
out. I’d given up on them, standing over my baby, harshly prodding and poking
at her like a stillborn baby.
I sat. Unmoving, and
pretty much unfeeling, I sat. Waited. Sat. Waited. Sat.
The night of the show,
I pushed it. Got dressed that morning and left the sound checks to my brothers.
Gently kissed her forehead as I always did before leaving and flew down to the
Orpheum Theatre as the opening act was taking the stage. Good, I had little
less than an hour.
“How is she?” Isaac
asked gently as I stepped into our dressing room, collapsing onto one of the
couch. Zoë climbed up on my lap and pressed her little girl’s curls against my
shoulder. She was two and yet she somehow sensed something was wrong.
I shook my head at
Isaac’s question, blinking back tears. It was becoming so hard to perform. Certain
songs, I just flat out refused to sing any longer. There would be no version of
‘With You in Your Dreams’ or ‘A Song to Sing’ tonight. No way would we perform
‘Dyin to be Alive’ with my girlfriend in a coma no
more than two miles away.
But in the end, I took
the stage. I sang, I jumped up and down. I revved up the crowd and put on the
act. I was Taylor Hanson. I could never be upset. I was just one big fucking
ray of sunshine.
Then came the call on
my phone as I let Isaac support me for the walk out to the limo waiting for us:
she’s awake.
June
Taylor’s lost his
mind. He just up and lost it. Or maybe he threw it into the Arkansas River.
Either way, it’s gone.
I had that premonition
so long ago that this girl would kill him. I hate that I’m right.
Taylor no longer
sleeps. I’ve gotten phone calls at two in the morning from the distraught
blond, voice hoarse and uncertain. The appearances I’ve caught on TV, the
pictures the fans boast… all of them show raccoon eyes, pale, blotchy skin. Make-up
can’t things when I know how to look.
The boy needs sleep.
He needs the comfort of a warm bed and a loving touch. But I do fear the only
remedy for the poor child lays in a hospital bed, comatose. I suddenly feel
very old. Taylor always told me he felt old, like he was very tired, very used
by life. I never knew what he meant.
Very often his tearful
debacles led to that statement: “I feel so old.” I grew to no longer want to
know his explanation. It would lead to more time-consuming, watery prattle.
I know what he meant.
I can only imagine
what this is like for Taylor. I feel old, misery me. I’m not the one taking
daily flights all over the country; I’m not the one sitting in a hospital room.
The sad thing is, I’ve
received mass e-mails concerning Taylor’s current state. It’s not necessarily
their concern that gets to me; it’s that a good 75% of the messages start with
explanations of ‘ARE THEY BREAKING UP? OH MY, THAT’S SO SAD!’ I have ignored
those and replied to only the ones that have sent serious inquiries as to the
state of affairs.
Of course, I’d like to
know how the world got my address. I’d like to believe it wasn’t the girl I
sent the e-mail to at ClubHanson. But I really don’t
think of any other place where so many people would have access to that.
I haven’t heard the
latest news on the situation in Boston. I don’t know what’s going on. I only
know that this is week three of her being in a hospital bed. Week three of
Taylor’s kamikaze schedule running rampant over any form of self-control he may
have once had.
Week three of Taylor’s
long journey into the valley of death, where evil would greet him with the
capricious smile of raven faery and he would not be
afraid.
“It’s the hardest thing I’ll ever have to do,
To look you in the eye and tell you I don’t love you,
It’s the hardest thing I’ll ever have to lie,
To show no emotion when you start to cry…
“It’s the hardest thing I’ll ever have to do,
To turn around and walk away,
Pretend that I don’t love you…”
The light in the room was
intensely bright when my eyes fluttered open. Fuzzy images came into focus and
a high-pitched beep screamed in my ear.
I had failed again.
“Morgana!”
Nicole was there and she threw she arms around me, a gentle embrace. My mother
stood to the side of her, tears in her eyes. I remembered Taylor’s voice… where
was he?
“Taylor,” I whispered softly,
grabbing my sister’s hand in my weak grip. “Get Taylor.”
“I called him when you started to
come to. There was a show at the Orpheum Theatre tonight. He’s coming back
right now,” she told me in a gentle voice, but her eyes sparkled. Slowly,
things came back into focus; I realized the high-pitched screaming was no more
than a heart-monitor.
Taylor flew in a few minutes
later, face sweaty and red. He still wore the clothes from the concert, loose
jeans and a sweat-soaked tank-top. Ear plugs still hanging around his neck,
towel shoved in his back pocket.
“Jesus, you scared me,” he cried
as he knelt down, warm hands touching my face. His eyes raced over my pale
skin, tears rising in baby-blues. “I love you, Ana.”
“I love you too,” I managed to
croak out, squeezing his hands weakly. It was then that I noticed my family had
left; it was just Taylor and I. Well, it was time to say what I had to say. Now
or never.
“Taylor,” I whispered, wanting to
cry as he leaned in closer to hear me. God, how he was going to be hurt.
“Taylor, I want you to leave.”
“Alright, I’ll come back in the
morning, I promise.” He leaned down and dropped a tender kiss against my
forehead. I winced, grabbing for his wrist as he turned to go, ignoring the
painful tug of the IV in my hand. “No, I mean, leave. I… I don’t want
you to come back. I want… I want for this to be over,” I choked out, avoiding
his intense gaze.
“But… but you just said…” He
stopped, words cut off by the beginning of sobs. Red eyes gaped at me as he
stood to the side, watching. I only shook my head. let my eyes slip shut. He
had to leave. He had to make this easy for me. I didn’t have the strength to
fight him.
“Alright, Ana, tell me you don’t
love me,” he demanded in a trembling voice. When I opened my eyes, I saw that
his arms shook violently while he forced his hands into his pockets. He wasn’t
bothering to hide the tears that spilt over his cheeks as he stood there,
totally helpless and completely vulnerable.
I was silent for a moment and
then began, “Taylor… I…. I…” I stopped, giving up. I couldn’t say it. I
couldn’t lie to him, as much as I wanted to right then. The truth was that I
wanted to tell him that I loved him more than anything in the world, and for
the love of God, don’t leave me! But that wasn’t right.
“Good-bye, Taylor,” I whispered
instead, shutting my eyes tight and turning my head away from him. “Leave.”
When I didn’t hear the sound of his receding footsteps, my eye’s snapped open
again. He stood to the side of my bed, dumbstruck. Tears raced down his cheeks
faster, dripping unchecked to the floor. “Leave!” I shouted, sobs catching in
my throat. No! I wasn’t going to cry. Still, I wasn’t going to fucking cry.
“Alright, Morgana.
I’ll leave. But I love you. I’ll always love you. Just as much as you’ll always
love me.” He leaned over, brushing back my hair, and pressed his soft lips
against mine. As his fingers left my face, a single tear trekked down my pale
cheeks. He was gone.
* * *
They finally released me a week
and a half later. Released me to the torment no one had ever prepared for. I
had fallen in love and I had fallen hard. Now it was over and I was in more
pain than I had ever felt before. I wanted nothing more than for my latest
attempt to leave this world to have worked. I sure as hell didn’t want to be
stuck here even longer.
I turned to the thing that had
always saved me from giving in to the temptation of just going for it again; I
turned to my pen. Late in the night, with the peepers I found to be so cold
here, I clung to the blue ink flowing so freely…
I never thought it was possible to be
this miserable. I never even knew what kind of pain a single person, a few
words could cause a person. I watched all those damned soap operas and
snickered. Like people could ever be that upset over a break up. Over one
stupid person. I think I know now. I loved him so much, so deeply. Although,
loved probably isn’t the right word. Love suites the situation a lot better,
I’d say. I still love Taylor as much as I did those mornings when I woke up in
his arms, felt his soft kisses, his angelic voice telling me that he loved me.
But there’s nothing I can do about it now. As much as this hurts us both, it’s
for the best. It has to be. Because if it’s not, I don’t know what I’m going to
do.
it’s late and I can’t sleep. Every time
I close my eyes I see Taylor, the tears flowing down his face as he says
that’ll he’ll always love me, the pain in his beautiful eyes as I tell him over
and over to get out. I can’t take it, so I don’t sleep. I try not to blink.
Even that fraction of a second allows his image to seep through. Although,
every once in a while, I do close my eyes. Make myself watch, just to hear his
voice, to see his face. Sure, I could pop in one of his CD’s, listen to that
angelic voice of his singing those sweet lyrics. I could look at all the
pictures of us together, happy, radiant, so plainly in love. I haven’t
destroyed any of them. I don’t think I ever will. For now, they rest in tissue
paper, tucked away in hidden spaces of my room until I can bear to look at them
again. To look into those baby-blues right now would be even worse than talking
to him, hearing the fresh pain in his voice that my own would bring.
I’ve thought of instead writing to
Taylor. So I could say everything... Tell him that yes, I still love him, with
all my heart. Attempt to explain to him how I feel, why we can’t be together
again. I can’t deal with everything, the constant living from visit to visit,
waiting to hear his voice. He never knew how much I loved him. I waited for
those phone calls. Waited and waited. Cherished each and every one of his
letters from the places he’d go, the pictures he’d send back. I wrote to him,
sent pictures. Painted a picture that I was happy, merely missing him, hoping
to see him soon. Inside, I couldn’t stand it. I was in pain every minute with
out him. I needed him, needed every ounce of the love he gave me. Gave
unconditionally. I love him more than I love my own life.
But it’s funny I should say that now,
because those words were exactly what he told me more times than i could count.
Never did I tell him that… I just kept it buried deep inside where I never
thought it could hurt me. Well, how’s this for a kick in the ass to tell me I’m
wrong?
I should’ve known this was going to
happen. I should’ve prepared myself for it. I was blind and I suppose in many
ways I still am. There are probably a million reasons why we shouldn’t be
together. But right now, I can’t even think of the one why I broke up with him.
And that’s sad indeed.
But the ink has begun to run together
and the page is no longer visible. Writing this sorry little note has become a
task too difficult to continue. I think I’ll just cry into my pillow now.
I love Taylor…
I sighed as I let the sheets of
paper drop sink like faery wings brushed with
bullet-holes to the ground. Thought about where I’d left them and then shoved
them under my bed. My nosy mother did not need to discover those papers.
Undoubtedly, she would be in here soon enough, scouring for something,
anything, to assure her that her daughter was normal. Her daughter was normal
even though this was the second suicide attempt. Her daughter was normal even
though she had forced the love of her life away from her in a fit of emotions she didn’t quite
understand.
True to what I had written, I
wasn’t sure anymore why I forced Taylor away. The tears fell steadily, once so
easily harbored and now as controllable as a cyclone, I lay back in the
darkness of my room. Thought about Taylor on some stage. Wondered how he was.
Wondered if he’d decided to take solace in his whores and booze or if he just
fell into the same fits of tears as I did night after night. Maybe I should
talk to him. Didn’t I owe him that?
No, you don’t, I told myself
firmly, crawling down into my blankets. Because if you call him, it’s only
going to hurt you both more. Maybe Taylor’s moved on. He doesn’t need you to
call him and screw everything up.
He’s not over you. You’re the
love of his life, a little voice pleaded from the back of my head. He’s not
going to forget you that easily.
I was the love of his life, I argued back
bitterly, yanking the blankets up to my chin and taking a shaky breath. He
doesn’t love me anymore. I broke his heart.
He
still loves you, the little voice threw back in a sing-song tone. If he didn’t,
you’d know. He’ll never stop loving you, Morgana.
“That’s
why it hurts so bad,” I whispered into the pitch dark room as the flood burst
and heart-wrenching sobs ripped from within until I fell, exhausted, into a
restless sleep.
Sleep
didn’t last for long in those nights. An hour here, an hour there, before I was
awake again, fighting tears. Taylor. He was my life for nearly the last year.
Yes, next week it would have been a year. The sixth of July. And I was alone in
my room and he was alone in some nameless hotel… even though it would all be
ending soon. The second leg of the tour had been postponed indefinitely and the
fans were pissed, but as I’d read on some random fan page, ‘he looked like hell
the other night. It’s for the best’.
So
maybe there is still some chance… if I’d just swallow my pride and call him,
maybe he’d take me back. Maybe he’d fling his arms open and welcome me. Maybe
he’d take me back into his bed and just hold me all through the night.
This
is more than a matter of pride, I thought bitterly. This is everything. This is
his music having ruined our relationship. This is my best-friend has killed
herself. There’s no closure to that. No killer to face, no disease to point a
finger at. This was Skye’s doing and now she was gone. Nothing I could do about
it.
But
his music wasn’t that big of an issue. You’re just trying to rationalize this
now, Morgana. It’s not working because you yourself
can see right through it. Yeah, Skye’s gone, but Taylor would have been there
to hold you through all those nights in tears. He asked you to stay with him.
He offered to come home with you. You know he wouldn’t have even thought to do
all those shows if you needed him.
I did
need him, fought back the logic-less side of my emotions. I needed him every
night when I lay in that hospital bed. But he was off at this show and that
show.
That’s
not fair; he flew back to Boston after every concert and was there beside you.
He sang until his voice was raw, stayed until the doctors threw him out. He’d
fallen asleep beside me in the hospital bed, and the nurse hadn’t had the heart
to kick him out until the doctor came on his rounds.
He was
there for me, I thought sadly, tugging my blankets closer. They hugged me, but
it wasn’t the embrace I sought. I wanted Taylor’s arms around me, I wanted his
warm breath on my shoulder.
You
made him leave, I reminded myself, groping blindly in the darkness for a notebook.
Time to put it all down on paper again. Time to commit all the torture to a
notebook that I was beginning to consider mailing to him. He’d made me read his
most personal feelings. Maybe it was high-time he got a hold of mine.
Taylor means the world to me, and I had
to let him go. I don’t know what I was thinking.. I forced him away! Yelled for
him to leave. Shit, I even started to say that I didn’t love him. And what a
lie that would have been. I still love him…. I’ll never stop and he was right when
he said that. He knew he was right. But I can’t help but wonder what he’s doing
in this moment, deep in the witching hours. Probably laying in an empty, cold
bed, same as I, wondering what I’m thinking. Or maybe he no longer cares. Maybe
he’s given up on trying to care about what happened between us. Maybe I hurt
him too badly.
But for all the suffering I caused him, I feel the
pain too. It’s this deep-seeded agony that starts somewhere near my toes and
extends through each and every capillary and nerve-ending. Physical pain, the
kind that burns, to add to the emotional damage I’ve caused myself in these
last few days. It hurts more to be without Taylor than it did to slash my
wrists. And that hurt like a son-of-a-bitch.
Re-reading what I just wrote, a bitter little smile
comes to my lips. Taylor ‘means’ the world to me. Present tense… But it just
goes on to confirm what I already know: I still love him. I’m not going to stop
loving him any time soon.
But he’s also gone, and I’m the one who pushed him away.
No amount of sucking up my pride would change that. No amount of anything I
could ever say to him would erase the pain I’ve embedded deep in him.
At least I feel it too. At least I can hold on to
that; pain from Taylor. And do I know that seems like a sick thing to think,
but it’s what’s on my mind. At least I can suffer the same as him.
I’m twisted. I’m in pain.
I’m in love.
“We’re
not playing a game anymore,
You don’t have to be so defensive,
Don’t you plead me your case, don’t bother to
explain,
Don’t even show me your face, ‘cuz
it’s a crying shame,
Just go back to the rock from under which you came,
Take the sorrow you gave and all the stakes you
claim –
And don’t forget the blame…”
“Taylor!”
I didn’t move. No, moving would prove much too painful and arduous. I
would just stay right there, wrapped in my little cocoon of blankets. Besides,
it was too bright to bother opening my eyes.
“Taylor!” the deafening scream called again, closer this time. Slowly,
tentatively, I pulled the blankets higher over me. Pressed them again my ears
and hoped the noise would end.
“Taylor fucking Hanson!”
The blankets were ripped away harshly, put I didn’t open my eyes. I
just grabbed the pillow next to me, buried my face in it. That too was torn
away, forcing me to finally open my eyes to the glare of my brother.
“Taylor!” he growled, eyes flashing, “Get the hell up!”
“Fuck you,” I managed to say back through, my voice raw, painfully so.
Talking hurt. My eyes burned. Sleep now.
“Alright, that’s it!” He turned, but it was only to slam the door shut
with a deafening crash. “I’ve fucking had it with you!” Roughly, he grabbed my
shirt and hauled me up to my feet, one hand raised in position to smack me. I
gazed at it lazily for a moment and burst into laughter. His hand came down and
I was on the bed again, pain having sling-shotted me
back into silence.
“You got thrown out of Mom and Dad’s! I took you in because you’re my
brother and I love you. But for Christ’s sake, I’ve had it!” he raged, storming
from one end of the room to other. I tried to ignore him, I really did. Held my
hand up to my face, the bruise already beginning to swell. Had an awfully
strong hand, yes he did.
“Are you listening to me!” he demanded suddenly, ripping me to my feet.
Hair mussed and eyes fierce, he glared at me, sending a violent tremor through
my body as he shook me.
“Yes, I’m listening.” I smiled impishly, the desire to laugh welling up
once more. But it would only get me smacked again. Best to merely smile.
“Good. You’re not leaving this house! Do you understand me? You’re not
leaving, and no one is coming in! Rebecca and I are going to be here at all
times, just to make sure. I’m not letting you kill yourself!” He stalked over
to the door, lunging for the knob. He twisted it sharply, then stopped. Sighed.
Turned back to me.
“And for the love of God, Taylor, take care of yourself. You reek.”
He was gone with the door crashing shut once more.
“Fuck you,” I threw back at the door, not caring that my words came out
as a feeble whisper. The cry of a dying man, I thought sardonically. Yes,
dying…
It had been a week since I’d returned home. No more shows. Time to
party, party hard. I had a lot of lost time to make up for.
That was how I’d come to view all of this. Morgana
had been a waste of my time. She hadn’t been worth my party time. Not at all.
I’d come home and I’d called Tom. Ushered him to finish up with his pity-party
talk; we were going out and I knew just the place.
I proceeded to consume more alcohol that I ever have before. That’s a
lot of fucking booze.
Kira
had already given up on me at that point. She refused to speak a single word to
me until I ‘get back to being a normal guy, not an asshole.’ Until I was ‘ready
to admit I still loved her’.
Yeah, sure.
It only took three days before my mother gave up on me. She’d already
endured the tour. A new city every other night, a new place to party. A bunch
of the roadies were over twenty-one, and for a few bucks, were more than glad
to take a run down to a package store for me. Besides, it really wasn’t a big
secret between the crews what I was up to. They all knew.
There’s Taylor, the poor fool. Dumped by his girlfriend. Let him drink.
Let him swear. Let him be a brat. He’s nursing a broken heart.
What they didn’t realize was that I wasn’t nursing anything but my
bottle of rum. The stupid bitch was gone: good riddance! It was time to
celebrate. Fuck, man, I’m Taylor Hanson. I can party in style!
Back to Tulsa, back to my home. These were the people that knew me. My
home-town whores had all been there at that first party. They’d been glad to
see me; I had been their favorite. Nah, I hadn’t fucked any of them. That tiny
part of me that still gave a shit about my relationship, or rather, lack
thereof, with Morgana wouldn’t allow for it.
Tonight, well, I had gotten over that.
So Isaac had put me on house arrest?
“Fuck that,” I whispered to myself as I settled back into the bed.
Pretended that I didn’t remember the night I had spent in the same bed with Morgana, the hours we had enjoyed wrapped in each others.
Pretended I didn’t remember how much I love her. Loved
her.
I fell back into a restless sleep, not yet adjusted back into my
mass-consumption-of-alcohol phase. Limbs flailing into the tangled mass of
sheets, soft sobs breaking into the tense silent of the house. I never
remembered any of it. That just wouldn’t do.
Up again, now completely alone in the house. It must have been close to
eleven. Isaac and Rebecca must have left, figuring I was out cold for the
night. Nope, not me. I was alive and well and I was going out.
Having slept off my hangover, I was freshly rested and ready for
anything the party world wanted to throw at me. A fitted pair of black pants, a
tight tank-top, some crosses.
I left on Morgana’s cross, but it was only
because I liked the way it made me look. Sexy, I think, with that nice little
touch of bad-boy the girls like.
Off I went, hesitant and cautious about my ways. They might still be
lurking around, waiting for the beast to rise and go off in search of his prey.
No such luck; they were fast asleep in their bed, Isaac’s bare chest holding
Rebecca’s soft cheek close.
That’s right Ike, you got some tonight. Now it’s my turn. You can’t
deprive your brother. It’s not very nice.
A grin came to my lips as I sauntered out the door and started down the
sidewalk, hips set to a careful sway. I was on the prowl and tonight was a good
night indeed.
Tom was throwing a party, come to think of it. I turned off on the next
side street and started to run. His house wasn’t too far from Isaac’s; I could
already hear the music a block away.
“Taylor!” he cried as I walked in, one arm flung around my shoulder
instantly. “You made it!”
“Isaac put me on house arrest.” I shot him a devilish grin, accepting
the extended plastic up. “But he’s fast asleep and will never know I’m gone.”
Tom nodded in approval, catching my wrist as I went to walk away. “I’ve
got something for you.”
“Something or someone?”
“Aw, you ruined the surprise. Someone.” He raised his eyebrows, leading
me into the kitchen. She was there, just as I had expected, long black hair
loose as it had always been. Fiona. Scantily-clad in a short skirt and a
tank-top that left little to the imagination, she looked over at me, eyes
widening.
“Taylor!” she cried, flinging her arms around me. “Aw, shit, no one
told me you were back!”
“Oh, I’m back.” I bent slightly to her shorter frame, brushing my mouth
against hers. She tasted just as good as I had remembered. But I wanted to make
sure.
“Hey, hey, get a room you two!” Tom shouted in my ear, jostling me
lightly. “I know there’s one upstairs!”
“You game?” she asked, sidling up to me and stroking my arm. Her touch
was delicious, giving me the same shivers I remembered so well. “Or are you out
of practice?”
“Game.” I took the hand she extended to me and left, grinning broadly
at Tom. Man, did I love him. True to his predictions, one of the upstairs rooms
were empty. In we went, the lock tumbling into place with a dulled click.
“So, girlfriend gone now? Back for some fun?” she asked, leaning back
against the wall. I advanced closer, one arm on either side of her.
“Oh yeah.” I had her suddenly, arms pinned behind her back as I pressed
the length of my body to hers. Tugged her closer and let my mouth wander over
hers. It wasn’t long before the old rhythm of our kisses began, her hands
nimbly inching my shirt up.
One hand rested on her leg, just under the short hem of her skirt. I
let it slide up, closer to the thin strap resting on her thigh. Down her back
to cup her butt in my grasp, yanking her roughly to me. Grinning because I knew
she liked it.
She broke away, freeing her hands from my loose grasp. Walked over to
the bed with an extra sway to her hips, turned. Curled her fingers at me, as if
I needed the invitation. Pushed me down to the bed, hands already tracing a
pattern over my belt.
I reached for her skirt, watching in fascination as more and more of
her pale skin was slowly revealed. It had been too long since I had enjoyed the
touch of a girl. Too long since I had seen the bare flesh. Too long since I had
lived my life.
Her mouth was against mine again quite suddenly, knees pinning me to
the mattress. It was ecstasy in its finest form, her skin consuming mine.
Knowing fingers touching me in all the right places, a languid stroke that made
my skin burn.
Moving along my jaw, her lips rested just below my ear. “I can tell
you, I’m glad she’s gone.” She let her tongue flicker out, licking at my neck
for a moment. “I knew you could never love anyone. You belong here.”
My eyes snapped open, gazing back at her. Chartreuse eyes watched me,
held my stare as I looked back at her. “What’d you say?” I finally managed to
spit out, fingers absently going to the cross around my neck.
“That I knew you couldn’t love anyone. You belong to this world. We
don’t love people, Taylor. We use them.” Emerald fire looked back at me,
watched me as she reached for my cross. “I don’t remember this. It’s awful
pretty.” She tugged on it lightly, bringing my mouth closer to hers.
“Get off,” I demanded suddenly, shoving her away. “Get off me.”
Hesitantly, she did as I asked, puzzled that I reached to the floor for my
shirt. I ripped it down over my head and straightened the rest of my clothes.
Noted with a bitter little smile that there was no bulge in my pants to give me
away.
“What’s wrong?” she purred in my ear, nipping lightly at the tender
skin. “You don’t want me anymore?”
“No, I don’t.” I got up and fled, knowing it would be hours before Tom
knew I was gone. Knowing that chances were Fiona would tell everyone I had left
because I couldn’t get it up or something stupid like that. She would never
tell anyone I had rejected her; not when she had always bragged to everyone she
was my favorite.
Running blindly, I somehow found my way back to Isaac’s. There he was,
waiting for me, sitting on the couch looking mighty pissed off. “Where the hell were you!” he shouted as I came barreling in the
front door, wiping at tears that already beginning to streak my cheeks.
I only looked at him before running up into the room that I had been
given for my stay and slammed the door shut. Didn’t bother to kick off my
boots, didn’t bother with anything. Just fell, face-down, onto the mattress and
sobbed.
“Taylor?” It was Rebecca’s gentle voice that called to me from just
outside the door. She rapped her knuckles lightly against the wood and called
again. I didn’t bother to reply, but in she came, a robe tied tightly around
her. It was a cream colored silk, very similar to the one Morgana
had been wearing in this very house almost two months ago. “Hey, Tay, are you
ok?”
“No.” I picked my head up for a moment, shielding my eyes from the
light of the hallway. Noticing my aversion to the light, she shut the door
before making her way carefully over to the bed. Sat down beside me and put a
gentle hand on my back. “You want to talk?”
“Shit, I fucked up bad, Becca. I should have
tried harder,” I managed through my sobs. Into the pillow I buried my face, not
wanting to have to see anything but the darkness I deserved. “Do you know what
I did tonight? I almost fucked some girl that told me I was never capable of
loving anyone!”
She was silent, stroking my back gently, so much like my mother in that
moment. Except my mother had given up on me. My mother had given up on me and
my brother had hit me in anger for the first time in years.
“I wish I would die,” I mumbled aloud, dismayed that the rank of
cigarettes clung to my clothes. I had been smoking again. Morgana
hated that.
“It’ll work itself out, Tay,” she said quietly. Rubbed my back in slow,
soothing circles. “I promise you’ll feel better.”
“But what if I don’t? Jesus, Becca, do you
know what I said to her that night?” I pointed an accusing finger at her
sharply. “I told her that I would always love her, just as much as she would
always love me. And what did I do a week later? I drank myself into oblivion.
What have I done for the last three weeks? I’ve made-out with girls I was too
drunk to remember. Jesus, Becca, please, do the world
a favor and shoot me.”
“Taylor Hanson, stop and listen to yourself,” she told me sternly,
shoving my shoulder until I rolled over on my back. “There are millions of
people in this world that you mean something to. You told me about that girl,
the one with the pink hair? I don’t have to be told about all the others. So
you and Morgana are going through a bad patch. It’ll
work itself out. I promise.”
“What makes you so sure of that?” I asked bitterly, flinging my arm
over my eyes. Even the dim light from the window burned. “We’ve broken up. I don’t
know how much more over it could be.”
“I know Morgana, Taylor. I still know her.”
“Oh, and I don’t know her?” I spat back sarcastically. “I only knew her
better than I know myself.”
“Taylor, I spent two hours on the phone with her last night.”
“What!” I sat up suddenly, too suddenly for the headache that was
beginning to build behind my famous eyes. “You talked to her?”
“While you were out,” she confirmed with a nod of her head.
“How is she?” I finally said softly, running my fingers through my
hair. Did I really want to know the answer to my question? But I didn’t have
much of a choice, because it came, barreling from Rebecca’s mouth right to me.
“She’s… very upset.”
“Upset?”
Rebecca sighed, turning away from me and shaking her head. “I’ll tell
you Taylor, I feel like shit telling you this. She trusts me… but I also think
that there’s a lot worth saving between you two.
“She’s hurting real bad. I’m not going to lie to you. But she still
loves you. I’m sure you know that. You said it to her yourself that night in
the hospital. She… she said she would give anything to have you back. She
misses you. A lot.
“But - and yes, this does have a but to it - she’s afraid to say
anything. Afraid of rejection. Afraid that she’s hurt you too badly for you to
even consider coming back to her.” She paused, looking back at me.
I lay still, silent tears streaming down either cheek in little
rivulets. The guilt for my actions was beginning to seep in, spreading like a
vicious plague. All the hurt, the sorrow, everything I had felt, but shoved
down, came boiling to the surface. “So what can I do?” I whispered into the
darkness, suddenly overcome with weakness, the energy to even wipe away my
tears no longer within me.
“Wait.” She smiled with a hint of melancholy, one hand going to my
shoulder. Squeezing lightly, she touched my cheek with her other hand, wiping
away the tears. “I promise you’ll be alright, Taylor. I know her. But don’t be
afraid to make the first move.” She went to stand, then stopped, her gaze
pensive.
“You know, Taylor, I never thought Isaac and I would ever be able to
set things straight. I hurt him. Hurt him more than I knew. And he’d hurt me.
But you and Morgana were determined to fix it, and I
have you both to thank for so much. To you both for incredible friends, and to
you both for my marriage. I won’t let either of you walk away if there’s
something worth saving.”
“I already walked away,” I called back bitterly as she opened the door,
unchecked tears falling faster. Beside me, in the dim light, a single framed
photograph shimmered. I hadn’t had the heart to dismantle it, but now I propped
it back up. Unaware that Rebecca was still watching me through the crack in the
door, I picked it up and turned it the right way. Remembered the afternoon the
photograph had been taken…
“Taylor!” Morgana shouted, laughing as
I encircled her body with warm arms, tugging her down to the ground. Across the
field, the rest of my family was enjoying a picnic in the brisk November air.
“Mmm, I love you,” I whispered in her
ear as I pulled the thick wool blanket around the two of us, my arms then
returning to her waist to maintain my tight grasp. She smiled softly, closing
her eyes and leaning back against me.
“I love you too… we really should do things like this more often,”
she replied, her eyes remaining shut. I smiled, dropping a tender kiss against
her forehead. It was then that I noticed Isaac advancing on us with a camera in
hand. He motioned for me to be quiet; don’t let Morgana
know her was there. It would be such a beautiful, candid photo.
I turned my head, smiling broadly for the camera. Lady Luck
helped us out, with Morgana’s head turned toward
Isaac, her eyes slipped shut and a tiny content grin on her face. Even though
her eyes flew open as soon as she heard the click of the camera, she was too
late. She glared at Isaac, pointing an accusing finger. “You!” He only laughed,
pointing to me instead.
“He knew what I was doing!” he protested, turning his own
accusing finger on me. Morgana turned toward me,
green eyes lighting up merrily.
“Tay!” She hit me lightly, affectionately. “How could you?” I
grinned, told her I loved her, and leaned down to kiss her again.
The memory faded and I sat alone on the bed, my back leaning against
the wall. A fresh wave of salty tears streaked down my cheeks and didn’t move, didn’t make a sound as the
silent tears flowed unnoticed down my cheeks. “Am I ever going to be alright?”
I whispered softly, looking around the empty room. The untouched photo, the
touched on memory.
I didn’t think so.
So
much sadness here. A certain feel of melancholy I couldn’t trace floated over
the pews. And there it was, the coffin, shimmering in the light of thousands of
candles. She was getting ready to talk, now, the delicate blond creature. Green
eyes like her mother, tall and slender like her father. Angelic voice of her
father too.
Weeping,
she ascended the altar and stood before the masses. Began to speak softly into
a microphone that would bring her words to the thousands on the lawn and in the
parking lot.
“My
father… Taylor Hanson… was loved by all. My mother, may she rest in peace, was
most definitely the love of his life. I’ve never encountered two people that
were happier in their time together than the two of them. He loved her, true
love. He told me once that most people never experience love; they only know
lust. He told me lust was the physical desire for someone… love was them.
“My
mother died when I was fifteen. It was hard on us both,”-her voice caught in
her throat and she paused for a moment-“but I think he felt it more so than I.
Later, he told me she had tried before when they were teenagers. My age. But he
missed her. We both missed her.
“So
we turned to each other. I am a lover of music; I have my father to thank for
it. I was Daddy’s little girl in every conceivable way… Even before her
passing, I think my mother knew that our father-daughter bond was solid. I hope
she left this world knowing we would have each other.
“While
I have both my parents to thank for my drive and fierce ambition, my father
inspired me. I listened to whatever he brought home from the studio… I even
bought copies of the CD’s he put out with my uncles when they were teenagers.
He inspired me… he inspired me to live.
“But
he also taught me the lessons of life. He taught me that life was nothing more
than flimsy satin lace. Satin Lace, the very same title he dedicated to the
volumes recording his life from boyhood to the day he died. Now I read, from
the inscription left behind, what Satin Lace was to my father.
“Life IS
Satin Lace. Full of all these intricacies and all these places where you can
slip through the cracks and into an oblivion you never even knew existed. But
of course, you don’t pay attention to all the gaping holes. The lace is made of
satin, and it’s soft and beautiful. You think you could never fall through any
of the ugly holes, gaps that are rather over-looked than carefully roped off.
And so is life. Satin Lace, the volumes of my life that document all the times
I’ve fallen through the beauty into the lonely darkness, unsuspecting and
unprepared for any of it.”
She broke down suddenly,
her voice breaking. Up the altar came her uncles, tears streaming from their
eyes, and off they carried her to the pew.
As I watched, a figure
rose from the coffin. Ghostly, transparent as I myself must have been, he
floated freely. Down the aisle he came and I felt I would never stop smiling.
Finally, after all those years of living alone in this sad place, I would have
him back.
Yet down the aisle he
continued, right passed my outstretched hand. Through the doors he went, the
ghostly apparition only I could see gone. Perhaps he’d fallen through his
fabled Satin Lace.